The Awakening
by Gwynn
Summary: CHAPTER 12 UP! Carithlee Narran, Luke’s best friend, searches for her true identity amidst the chaos of the Galactic Civil War. Contains some violence, mature themes, strong language, and sensuality. Not Luke/OC, different OC pairing
1. Desert and Reward

The Awakening

Author's Note: This is a Star Wars story I've wanted to write for a long time. It's based on a real Star Wars character, Carithlee. The manner in which I use this person, however, is entirely my invention. Basically, this story will take place during the original trilogy. There will be some similarities between her and Luke Skywalker, but this is essentially Carithlee's story told through her own words. Enjoy and please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Star Wars universe.

Chapter One: Desert and Reward

Desert and reward seldom keep company

- English proverb

"Carithlee! Carithlee!"

Sighing wearily, I abandoned my unfruitful struggle with the vaporator. Like the rest of the temperamental devices my family owned, it would develop refractory problems that could, coupled with the hostile environment we lived in, drive a being to distraction.

Still, my family and I were out under the glare of the two suns nearly every day, engaged in the endless task of keeping these machines merely serviceable. We had no other choice if we were to extract the vapor necessary for our survival in the arid climate of Tatooine. Moisture farming was all my indigent family knew.

Besides, no one else was going to watch after our interests when we inhabited a planet on the Outer Rim. Since Tatooine was so far away from Coruscant, the capital of the Empire, and too inhospitable for the average organism, we were basically ignored. My stepfather and mother, fond of seclusion, postulated that if Tatooine ever had an advantage, this was it. I, on the other hand, found the isolation to be a frightful bore. Nothing exciting ever happened to break the tedium of my daily routine.

Or so I was convinced until my best friend Luke Skywalker arrived in his landspeeder on that fateful day, calling my name. Only later did I realize that the news Luke brought would propel me on a far different course than I'd expected. At that moment, though, I was just glad someone other than my stepfather was coming across the dunes to visit me. He wasn't going to be particularly pleased when he discovered that the vaporator was pretty much useless.

"Carithlee, do you have your macrobinoculars with you?" Luke demanded as he pulled to a stop in front of me. "There's something you've got to see!"

His urgency made me study him for a second before executing the order. The luminous cerulean eyes, even more radiant than usual, were his single distinction on an otherwise nondescript face. Even his sandy hair and clothes matched the tan background of the desert.

"What should I look for?" I asked, slipping my macrobinoculars out of their place on my utility belt.

"It's two ships in orbit! They're fighting each other!" my friend blurted out excitedly.

Luke leaped out of his landspeeder, landing neatly at my side. He immediately pointed to a part of the sky where, sure enough, were flashes of light.

My curiosity piqued, I focused the lenses on the spot. For a few minutes, I observed the exchange of ray blasts. Luke was silent the whole time, breathlessly waiting for my reaction.

I lowered the macrobinoculars. "Well, it seems to me some smugglers got caught with their wares, and the Empire is collecting their just due," I replied dryly.

What I uttered was true enough. The scum of the galaxy liked to use Tatooine as one of their many bases for their racketeering games. An especially notorious crime lord named Jabba the Hutt lived in Mos Eisely, the nearest major settlement to us.

Shrugging, Luke conceded, "It's possible."

"If it is, at least I'll sleep better at night, knowing the Empire is protecting the decent, honest subjects like us," I quipped.

We laughed at the irony of my joke. Like everything else around here, one had to invent one's own amusement. For better or for worse, we were alone on Tatooine. All we had to do was examine our current situation to be reminded of that.

"Carithlee, will you come with me to Anchorhead? I want to tell the rest of the gang about the space battle." He was back in the landspeeder, extending his hand out invitingly to my own landspeeder.

I paused, recalling the rest of the duties I had to complete. "I can't. I have chores to do."

My friend smiled sympathetically. "I understand. I'll see you later." He drove away, leaving me alone on the desolate Dune Sea with the worthless vaporator.

& & &

The initial regret I felt for refusing Luke's offer soon passed. However little fun I could've obtained in dead-end Anchorhead wouldn't have gotten my work on the farm done. That argument kept me busy for the remainder of the day on my vaporator rounds around the perimeter of my family's land.

As I returned home in my landspeeder, Luke accelerated up next to me. He appeared dejected for some reason. When he beckoned me to halt, I promptly obeyed, concerned about his abrupt change in mood.

"What's up, Luke?" I yelled cordially. I hopped out and joined him in front of our landspeeders. "What did the others think of the two ships dueling it out?"

"That's just it," he grumbled. "By the time I persuaded them to check it out, the ships were still there, but they were no longer firing at each other. Then everyone accused me of making the whole thing up, that the ships were probably refueling or switching cargoes, since Tatooine doesn't have an orbital station."

"Didn't you tell them I also saw it?"

"Sure, and Camie commented you have just as much of an imagination as me, which Deak, Fixer, and Windy readily agreed with."

I instantly became hurt and angry at Camie's cheap shot. A moment later, however, I mentally berated myself. The predicament wasn't new by any means. If anything, my empathy for Luke's restlessness and discontent with Tatooine was common knowledge to all who were acquainted with us. Unfortunately, we were the only ones in our circle of friends with that view. Consequently, we were teased relentlessly about our desire to enlist in the Imperial Space Academy.

That doesn't mean I intend to knock my cronies' whole way of life. Certainly it's a hard, tiring existence, devoid of most creativity. Nevertheless, they had consigned themselves to this fate. Such is the outcome of free will. Conversely, Luke and I hadn't actualized our own goals yet, and until we did, we would keep striving for it, no matter how elusive.

"Even Biggs didn't believe me," Luke muttered absently.

"Biggs?" I blurted.

My heart began to beat faster at the mention at that name. Besides Luke, Biggs Darklighter was my other best friend. Ironically, Biggs was from a wealthy, affluent background, completely the opposite of most of the scrounging moisture farmers. Needless to say, this difference didn't exactly endure him to his peers. Luke and I managed to peer through the veneer to the real Biggs lurking inside. The three of us would spend our spare time playing computer-assisted pool at Tosche station in Anchorhead, racing our T-16 skyhoppers through Beggar's Canyon, or visiting each other at our respective homes.

This was the case until about a year ago. Biggs was served with a notice to appear at the Academy, courtesy of his father's high connections. Firmly under his father's control, he was in no position to refuse. Luke and I weren't able to submit our own applications, for our families couldn't afford to lose us in the middle of the harvest season. That was the familiar excuse which had held us chained to Tatooine while Biggs was off on the other side of the galaxy.

Now he was back after being gone for all this time. His departure was particularly bittersweet for me, because we'd begun dating shortly before he left. I was excited and scared all at once at the prospect of seeing him again.

Luke eyed me knowingly. "Yes, he's here for a quick stopover." My friend shoved me lightly toward my landspeeder. "Go to him. He'll be leaving tomorrow."

"Biggs graduated, didn't he?" I guessed, still confused by his sudden appearance.

"With honors, Carithlee," Luke confirmed as a smirk spread across his face, "and a great commission." Abruptly he grew somber. "Biggs will explain everything."

In hindsight, I comprehend the subtle pinpointing that last sentence did of what was underlying Luke's troubled soul. However, as I rushed to my landspeeder, I was too euphoric to notice at that moment.


	2. The Wish

**The Awakening**

**Chapter Two: The Wish**

**The wish is father to the thought.**

**- English proverb**

Anchorhead was nothing more than an outpost on the desert frontier. It consisted of a few weatherworn metal and stone structures bleached white by the glaze of the suns. They were huddled together for what little protection and company could be gained against the planet's elements and inhabitants. Overall, the scene was quite depressing, even to a seasoned native like me.

This occasion was no different as I parked my landspeeder in front of Tosche station. The only appeal Anchorhead held for me was near that building. Luckily, no one else was there to intrude.

In the twilight, I recognized Biggs' burly form. He sported a precision-cut uniform that enhanced his natural swarthiness. This almost perfectly blended him in among the shadows. Even so, I could discern the warm smile unfolding on his face when he caught sight of me.

"Biggs," I breathed.

All the swirling emotion I was experiencing was put into that dear name. Nonetheless, it didn't seem enough to adequately express them. That was the problem with spoken words; they never properly represented that which could be done better with actions.

Thus, I sprinted the brief distance between us into his waiting arms. We clung onto each other as if our lives depended on it.

"Luke told me you would come," Biggs finally murmured, propping his chin on top of my dark head.

"Well, why wouldn't I, Biggs?"

"None that I can think of us." Biggs chuckled. "I would've paid a call on you anyway. Even if I had to break down the front door to get to you."

"I can imagine my parents' reaction to that." I giggled.

"Never mind them." Biggs stooped down, an intent expression in his ebony eyes. My breath grew shallower as he kissed the palms of my rough hands. "Tonight belongs to us."

He led me to the side of the power station. We'd be out of the way enough for anyone, namely that malicious Camie, not to observe our private exchange, yet not too far away from the settlement itself, since the Tusken Raiders had been getting bolder lately and were attacking even the outskirts of Anchorhead.

Tusken Raiders, or Sand People, as they're more commonly called by the moisture farmers, are brutal, wild beings encased in endless mummylike swathings, bandages, and pieces of cloth to protect themselves from solar radiation. They congregate in small numbers in forlorn regions, preferring to attack little, isolated settlements in order to satisfy their greed and perniciousness. The most efficient and swift tools with which to accomplish their pillaging are the double-edged ax known as a Gaderffi stick and the bantha, a great shaggy, horned beast. With the Gaderffi stick, they cleave your skull in half and make off with your possessions strapped on the back of banthas, riding single file so no one could surmise the strength of their forces.

If you were captured instead, your future would be dim indeed. Sand People's approach to inflicting suffering rivals even Imperial torture tactics. The most infamous of these are the sacrificial bloodletting for their clan rituals.

But all of that was pushed into the farthest recesses of my mind at this moment as I cried, unable to restrain my excitement any longer, "I heard you graduated with honors and received a commission! Biggs, I am so proud of you!"

"Luke's got a big mouth," Biggs complained wryly, adding emphatically, "I warned him about that."

"Hey, you've really done a wonderful job," I insisted softly.

I threw my arms around him in an enormous, impulsive hug. Biggs stiffened in response. Perplexed, I pulled away and inspected his face. The turmoil there revealed something awry.

"What is it?" I asked, concerned.

Biggs sighed. "A lot has happened," he replied enigmatically, shifting his stance uneasily.

"I don't understand. Aren't you going to have a…" My voice trailed off, the question hanging heavily in the air between us.

"Yes, I have a post," Biggs acknowledged after a few seconds' pause. "I'm scheduled to work as the first mate of this merchant ship called the _Rand Ecliptic._"

"Well, what's wrong with that?" I questioned forcefully. "You should be happy. It appears an excellent opportunity has presented itself to you."

"No, it's not, Carithlee," Biggs inveighed.

The sheer violence of his outburst stunned me into silence. Biggs devil-may-care attitude, the very thing that had initially attracted him to me, seemed to have undergone a drastic transformation during his year at the Academy. What could have happened?

"Biggs, what the hell are you talking about?" I demanded quietly, crossing my arms.

Furtively Biggs scanned the area around us for any encroachers. Seeing none, he searched my own face, trying to determine if he should divulge his secret to me. Recalling Luke's marked solemnity after his own visit with Biggs, I suspected he already knew it.

"Please tell me, Biggs," I prodded, my heart beating rapidly.

Biggs was silent, contemplating something for a few minutes. Then he cleared his throat and began. "I've met people at the Academy, and we've been talking about the way things are developing throughout the Empire. You'd be appalled at the outrages being committed. I myself havewitnessed manyof them. We've agreed that the Empire is slowly rotting within itself and that something must be done."

Over the years, I'd gleaned similar tales of alleged Imperial atrocities. I disregarded them, citing the whole lot as hearsay. For all I knew, the accounts were the handiwork of the disgruntled. Certainly no one I'd ever encountered could back up the claims with facts.

Now Biggs was declaring that the rumors could actually be confirmed. He sounded so convincing that I wondered if there was a horrible grain of truth in them.

"Carithlee, as soon as I get aboard the _Rand Ecliptic, _I'm going to jump ship and join the Rebel Alliance," Biggs whispered, his eyes blazing ardently.

I stared at him, my mouth gaping open in astonishment. It was one matter to voice concerns about the running of the Empire, but to defect? To throw away all he's earned for an uncertain future with the Rebels? Couldn't he grasp the immensity of the odds against him?

"You're crazy," I protested anxiously. "Biggs, you can't do that. Consider what you'll have to give up." I furiously wracked my brain for more logic to sway him with. "Besides, the probability of finding a real Rebel cell is next to none. If it were easier, the Empire would've crushed the Rebellion years ago. You'll sooner end up in that awful Imperial prison on Kessel where you mine spice until you go blind-"

Biggs stilled my ranting by placing his hands on either side of my face. "I know it's a long shot," he admitted reluctantly, "but if I can't make contact with the Rebels…" The newfound maturity and determination in his eyes made me tremble. "…then I'll do what I can on my own, Carithlee."

Damn him. I could relate to Biggs' risk-taking all too well. In spite of the expectations heaped onto us by other people, we both still had our own aspirations, and seemingly impossible ones at that. How could I condemn Biggs without condemning myself?

"Life really catches up with us, doesn't it?" I remarked hoarsely, smiling ruefully. "One moment we're racing each other through Beggar's Canyon without a care in the galaxy, the next you're going to become a Rebel with all the cares of the galaxy on your shoulders."

As always, Biggs saw through my brave front. "I'm going to miss you, too, Carithlee," he said in a husky voice, gently drawing me toward him.

Biting my lip hard, I simply leaned into Biggs' embrace, not quite trusting myself to speak. The depths of what I felt for this man still managed to blow me away. Unfortunately, I'd lacked the courage or even the bravado to utter these emotions aloud to him. Now that I was seeing Biggs for what was probably the last time, I was especially swept up in its momentum.

Gazing up at my boyfriend, I could discern the sadness vividly reflected in his dark eyes. I knew his decision to join the Alliance was tearing him in two different directions: those loyalties that belonged to his convictions and those that belonged to his friends and family. In an ideal galaxy, Biggs could remain true to both, but we lived in an Imperial galaxy instead; there was no middle ground here. He had to completely sever ties with one side in order to fully follow the other. This was why Biggs had returned to Tatooine: to finish up the breaking-off process that must've started the moment he'd left for the Academy.

A burst of desolation washed over me, and I let my shoulders slump. Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill out. However, before my resolve could further weaken, I gulped back my tears and straightened my back. There would always be time later on for feeling sorry for myself. I couldn't afford to waste the precious few moments that I presently had with Biggs.

Biggs seemed to have a similar frame of mind, for he bent down and brushed his lips against mine. I closed my eyes tightly and deepened the kiss, feeling his mustache tickle my upper lip lightly. Although this wasn't our first kiss as a couple, it certainly was every bit as explosive.

Our kisses progressed from slow and searching to quick and passionate. I soon felt like I couldn't catch my breath, yet I couldn't bear to break away from Biggs. I clutched at the fabric of his shirt, half to steady myself, half to reassure myself that he wasn't a figment of my imagination.

Finally, Biggs pulled back a little, still holding my shoulders. "Wow," he mumbled, breathless. "That got kind of intense."

I couldn't quite answer. My blood was racing, my pulse pounding.

My boyfriend's cheeks glowed as he reached over and clumsily smoothed my hair back. "You've sort of come undone," he informed me, his voice deep and slightly shaky.

Blushing, I became dimly aware of my rumpled appearance. I stepped back and straightened my brown tunic, then took a moment to undo my topknot and redo it again. All the while, I knew Biggs was watching me, and I flushed an even deeper shade of crimson.

"I guess we pulled off a public display of affection worthy of Fixer and Camie," I joked in an effort to lighten the thick tension of the moment. For good measure, I forced a smirk to creep into my features.

Camie and Fixer had been going out ever since we'd entered our teenage years. They'd always been hot and heavy with each other, even in front of the rest of us. Even though Windy and Deak didn't mind too much, Biggs, Luke, and I begged to differ. Given their behavior, we supposed that it'd only a matter of time before the shotgun wedding would occur.

"Nah, we did it in the dark behind a building," Biggs pointed out, laughing. He leaned against the side of Tosche station. "That's not Camie and Fixer's style. They'd go one step further by taking it to the streets in broad daylight."

Shrugging, I joined him along the wall. "They've had plenty of time to perfect _that_ technique," I retorted, shaking my head knowingly.

The light mood passed, and we both fell silent for a while, each lost in our own contemplations. At last I turned to face Biggs, lacing my fingers through his right hand.

"It's been such a long year without you here, Biggs," I remarked. "Everything's been so much quieter and just…more boring."

Biggs smiled ruefully. "You know, it's funny how I swore to myself a year ago that I wouldn't waste another thought on Tatooine once I left for the Academy, yet…damn it, this useless pile of rock and sand is the only home I've ever known, and well…I'm actually going to miss it, because you and Luke will still be here."

"You don't know the half of it, Biggs!" I burst out in a heated voice.

He grinned, a glimmer of his happy-go-lucky self shining through. "Trust me, Luke already gave me the basic run-down, but I'd be happy to listen to your version," he urged me.

I found myself wondering where to begin.

& & &

The twin suns were barely commencing their ascent across the sky as I journeyed home in my landspeeder. I concentrated on my night with Biggs and not on the painful parting that morning, although it was extremely hard to do. An occasional tear would well up and course its way down my cheeks. The desert air evaporated them quickly, a terrible reminder of the reality I had to return to.

During that evening with Biggs, I'd related to him my frustrations and fears in respect to my unchanging fate. He'd encouraged me to follow my dreams. That it was absolutely imperative to figure out my priorities.

The counsel left me more desperate than ever. Something had to give, or Tatooine would suck the very soul from me. I would be existing to fulfill my obligations to that slave of a farm, nothing else.

I couldn't bear to let that occur. If my family wasn't going to bestow their blessings for my wishes, I would take matters into my own hands. Like Biggs, I was going to jump this planet one way or another.


	3. Friends from Necessity

**The Awakening**

**Author's **

**Chapter Three: Friends from Necessity**

_**Relatives are friends from necessity.**_

- **_Russian proverb_**

My mother was a formidable person. Ironically, she wasn't a woman of large stature or build. Barely 1.7 meters tall, Mama was as willowy and petite as they came. So while it was true that she was handy with a blaster when defending the farm from possible marauders, the way in which she conducted herself revealed her real strengths: aloof, industrious, pragmatic. Although such traits were necessary for a homestead like ours, they would hardly inspire in others tenderness toward her.

When I arrived home, Mama was in the subterranean courtyard, vigorously sweeping its stone floor. Even in the middle of the Dune Sea, she was the vision of orderliness. Her dark brown hair, which I'd inherited myself as my sole vanity, was neatly plaited down her back in a single thick braid. Her coarse brown tunic and skirt, an outfit very similar to mine, was expertly mended, thereby saving it from the usual allotment to the scrap pile. The only blemish marring the picture was the perpetual layer of dust that coated her hair, skin, and clothes, possibly her thoughts. No one, not even Mama, could escape that if on Tatooine long enough.

Hearing my plodding my footsteps of my scuffed boots on the stairs leading down to the courtyard, Mama whirled around to confront me. "Carithlee, you've finally decided to grace us with your presence."

Her usual impassiveness didn't surprise me a bit. What I was more concerned about was how she'd punish me for staying out all night. Nonetheless, my visit with Biggs was worth it.

Adopting an expression as blank as Mama's, I focused my eyes on the high wall surrounding the courtyard. "Mama, I completed my inspection of the vaporators. All are operational except for the one on the south ridge," I reported mechanically.

Mama nodded grimly. She knew as well as I did that vaporators are the lifeblood of any moisture farm. The more you have, the better, for the devices make all the difference in whether or not you're able to survive one more season. Nevertheless, vaporators are terribly expensive, and since Mama kept track of the household finances, she was also acutely aware of this catch-22 fact.

"Maybe we'll be able to afford a new vaporator once this season's harvest comes in. Until then, we'll just have to tighten up things around here to compensate for the loss," she decided firmly. Then Mama abruptly fixed her eyes on me steadfastly. All too familiar with that look, I inwardly cringed, waiting for the ax to drop. "But there's a more pressing matter we need to attend to first. Were you in Anchorhead last night? I doubt you could've survived if you hadn't been."

She was referring to Tatooine's many dangers that only increased after dark. Of course, it was equally true that this savage land could scrounge up two or three methods of picking you off before dusk.

"Yes, I was in Anchorhead," I answered curtly.

"What of your partner in crime?" she further scrutinized.

"I was at Tosche station." I wouldn't give her the pleasure of divulging whom I was with.

"I already assumed that if you were in Anchorhead, then you had to be there wasting time with your idle friends. Still…" A shrewd gleam entered her brown eyes. "I've noticed you've been avoiding that place for the most part ever since Biggs…" Understanding suddenly dawned on her face. "That Darklighter boy was here on a furlough, wasn't he"?

Chagrined, I flushed a bright scarlet from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. My mother knew all too well. She could peer into my innermost thoughts as clearly as through a pane of glass. I was far too asinine to believe I could fool her otherwise, so I'd fall into the same trap with every confrontation.

"Yes, Mama," I reluctantly admitted.

An unreadable expression crossed her face. For some reason, her smooth exterior had been ruffled. That startled me, for she rarely disturbed about anything.

Mama asked hesitantly, "Were you…intimate with Biggs"

I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. My own mother was actually worried about an issue as normal as sex. At the very least, it was an obvious question to progress to after my big night out on the town.

Yet that was not entirely all which was troubling her. Mama had that distant look in her eyes, almost as if she were in completely different dimension than the one she was currently occupying. I'd sensed it before in fleeting moments over the years. It made me wonder if there was more to Mama than what she allowed herself to show.

At any rate, my mother didn't have any cause to be anxious for me. Granted, things between us could get intense, but Biggs and I had always managed to cool it before anything turned serious. Whatever Mama suspected, it was better she knew as little as possible.

"He's gone, Mama, and he won't be back."

"I see." With my vague response, her indifferent mask returned. "Since you don't make a habit of traipsing off without notifying anyone, I'm willing to overlook your behavior this once. Just be sure to start working on that Treadwell after breakfast. It's acting up again, and we're going to need every available droid for the harvest."

I nodded mutely as I followed my mother inside to the dining area.

& & &

Normally, after a comparatively cooler morning outside doing chores, I escaped the afternoon heat by retreating to the inner sanctum of the garage. Here I felt more at home than anywhere else on the underground farm complex. Among the cluttered, heavily used tools and sections of farm machinery, I could labor in silence without interference.

Unless I was bothered on purpose, that is. A voice from behind me suddenly hollered, "Hey, Carithlee"

Whirling around, I spotted Jjerrol, my thirteen-year-old half-brother, dashing into the garage from the outside entrance. Due to a recent growth spurt, he already towered a good ten centimeters above me. Mama had a hard time keeping him in properly fitting clothes. As a result, the tan tunic and pants my brother was currently wearing appeared a little short for his tall, lanky frame. In spite of such setbacks, Jjerrol was a good-natured, funny kid. You might even say he took everything in stride, a refreshing and surprising attitude to adopt for the harsh environment we lived in.

"Jjerrol Banai, you don't just come barging in places unannounced. It's rude," I scolded in a mock snobby tone. "One might question your upbringing."

He rolled his dark eyes. "Who's going to do that? The Jawas?"

As my brother finished speaking, his attentions were diverted to the T-16 skyhopper that was sitting next to the two landspeeders in the adjoining hangar with behind me. Jjerrol was evidently biding his time until I left for the Academy so that he could claim it as his own. Not that I blamed him. It's a smart-looking, powerful suborbital craft worthy of its reputation as a skillful navigator in all types of terrain.

Originally, the tri-winged T-16 had belonged to my stepbrother, Garrick. It'd been a gift from our parents on his tenth birthday, the only year the farm had produced a particularly successful harvest to support a splurge like that. Although I was merely six then, Garrick would often take me out flying, even to the locally notorious Beggar's Canyon. The nexus of our subsequent friendship and my budding piloting skills simultaneously formed during those excursions.

Garrick, though, clutched at his first ticket out of here, which was in the form of a beginning mechanic's position in Mos Eisely. Treplar Darklighter, a cousin of Biggs', who owned and operated Docking Bay 86 at the Mos Eisely Spaceport, had offered it to him. Despite everyone's admission to its portentousness, there was a harsh dispute between our parents and him over whether or not he should accept the job. In the end, Garrick moved to Mos Eisely, leaving me to carry on the Beggar's Canyon tradition with Luke and Biggs.

All this had occurred nearly seven years ago. Nevertheless, the memory of his parting was as fresh as it'd been just yesterday when I last beheld my stepbrother. Despite the fact that I missed him terribly, I was happy for him and even admired his efforts. In fact, as of his last hologram, Garrick had been promoted to head assistant to the Spaceport's chief traffic controller. He could only be destined for greater advancement. Perhaps it'd be the chief traffic controller position itself.

"Are those Jawas making their rounds in this area again?" I inquired, setting down a pair of hydrospanners on the workbench.

Like the Sand People, the Jawas are another set of organisms native to Tatooine. Although a few scientists did hypothesize that both races might be somehow related, there is no conclusive evidence to support or reject this theory. Perhaps the only sure comparison between the two is that they adopt tight clothing to shelter themselves from the twin suns. However, most similarities ended here, for Jawas affect heavy woven cloaks over their small, rodentlike bodies, leaving just their glowing red eyes visible.

Generally, these creatures' lives consist of collecting and selling all kinds of mechanical equipment. This objective is reached by converting old, abandoned sandcrawlers, which are huge, multistoried land vehicles originally used for mining purposes, into a sort of mobile home. Their specialization in rebuilding droids makes Jawas particularly indispensable to the moisture farmers, and the Jawas' greedy, fearful nature facilitates their dealings with the farmers. As a result, an uneasy peace exists between both factions. Nonetheless, you have to be on a constant lookout for the occasional hunk of junk the Jawas might sneak into the mix.

"Yeah, Papa's with them now," Jjerrol confirmed, his dusky-skinned features crinkling up in distaste. "I was only too happy to get away. They smell even worse than usual." My brother glanced at the six-limbed wheeled droid sitting in a lifeless pose on the workbench. "Papa sent me down here to tell you he wants you to go topside, because he needs to know if you can fix that Treadwell."

Ever since Garrick's departure, my stepfather had slowly come to value my opinion in technological and mechanical matters for the farm. "I've been wondering all morning when someone else besides me would own up to this lost cause."

Jjerrol's eyes danced mischievously. "I guess Mom had to punish you somehow for running off to go smooch with Biggs, huh?"

Horror and shock spontaneously combusted in my mind. Except for Mama calmly informing my stepfather and brother at breakfast that I'd spent the evening in Anchorhead, no mention had been made of Biggs. In fact, now that I really thought about it, Papa and Jjerrol had taken that bit of news a little _too_ well. At that time, though, I'd been preoccupied with not rocking the boat, namely Mama's, to actually pay much attention to their reactions. Basically, I'd eaten my meal in a rushed hurry and made a beeline directly to the garage. I'd been working on the Treadwell ever since then.

"Did you and Papa overhear our conversation?" I questioned gruffly, suddenly becoming acutely aware of the fact that the dining area opened onto the courtyard.

My brother simply shrugged. "How could we not? You and Mama were pretty loud about everything. I don't believe I've ever seen her this mad."

I wanted to kick myself for yet again being so damn stupid. Unlike me, Papa and Jjerrol were no fools. Mama was the real driving force in our family, thereby making her word law. They'd wisely stayed out of her line of fire by not letting on they'd figured out what had happened.

"That's probably because I've never pulled such a stunt before," I snapped petulantly.

"Hormones can do strange things to people, sis," Jjerrol shot back.

Recalling the heated kisses I'd shared with Biggs last night, I felt my face grow hot. "Thank you for that astute observation, bro. You really ought to start a think tank for all of your wonderful words of wisdom," I sarcastically recommended.

Spinning on my heel, I began to storm through the tunnel that led up to the surface. I hated it when my brother made me stoop down to his level of immaturity.

"Well, while I'm on a roll, maybe I should mention one more thing."

The conspicuous absence of humor in Jjerrol's voice caused me to halt dead in my tracks. "What is it?" I asked warily, facing him again.

Jjerrol's face had knitted itself into a thoughtful frown. "Isn't it weird Mama didn't ground you? She's always been big on that disciplinary stuff, Carithlee."

He brought up a good point, of course. Any act of indiscretion customarily warranted a punishment of equal severity. Why Mama didn't follow through on this occasion naturally puzzled us all, but I wasn't about to question it. I wasn't certain I even desired to. Some things simply weren't examined closely, for they might foray into other matters that were best left undisturbed.

Unfortunately, Jjerrol still had much to learn about both this farm and our mother. Just as Garrick had passed on the secrets of the trade to me, I was also determined to teach my brother whatever I'd garnered over the years. Considering the breakaway I was eventually going to implement, it was the least I owed to Jjerrol, who would come after me to shoulder the majority of the chores. I fervently hoped the burden wouldn't drain him of his optimistic spark.

"There's a first time for everything, Jjerrol," I replied, lifting my shoulders in a casual gesture, "although I doubt Mama's lost her touch by any means. To be on the safe side, you'd better watch yourself for a while."

A hint of a smirk tugged at the corners of my brother's mouth. "Carithlee, unlike you, I don't have a death wish." With that, he pushed past me and bounded out of the garage.

"Damn annoying brother" I muttered under my breath as I followed his retreating form.

As much as I didn't want to admit it, Jjerrol could have his moments, and when he did, I liked my kid brother that much more.

& & &

Outside, the windy day kicked up sand all around me in some kind of grotesque swirling dance. Despite the precaution pains Tatooine inhabitants underwent to prevent the disgusting granules from seeping into every orifice of the body, where there was a will, there was a way, and sand on this planet seemed to have learned this lesson somewhere along the line.

An uneven row of droids was positioned in front of a sandcrawler. The sandcrawler itself was parked next to the small domes and vaporators that indicated the presence of our underground farm settlement. My stepfather, who was a perfect older replica of Jjerrol and a giant of a man, dwarfed the several Jawas trailing after him as he critically examined the mechanical line-up.

The scene was a familiar one. When they wished it, the Jawas could be understood. Therefore, moisture farmers would enter into discussions with the Jawa in charge by using the desert scavengers' odd, squeaky language. Both sides would espouse a blustery show of haggling. Upon finally striking the sale, the two parties would heave a collective mental sigh of relief that hostilities had been avoided once more.

"Papa, Carithlee's coming," Jjerrol announced in a low voice as he rejoined his father's side.

Turning to me while I was still approaching the group, my stepfather demanded tersely, "So, is it safe to assume the Treadwell has to be replaced?"

Papa bore the same dry outlook on life as my mother. After all, great minds think and marry alike. However, the inherent sense of humor that Jjerrol possessed also happened to have been handed down to him from his father. Like the Jawas, when Papa wished it, he could be amused sometimes. Mama, on the other hand, had never smiled or even cried on any occasion that I could ever recall in all of my nineteen years.

"Yes, we'll need another droid to do the Treadwell's share of the duties," I affirmed.

"You're just in time, Carithlee." My stepfather glanced down at one Jawa whose leadership rank was denoted by the special clan design embroidered on its cloak. "I'll take that R5 unit."

At a guttural command from the head Jawa, a small, barrel-shaped robot hobbled out of the droid formation to join the human and Jawa cluster. From prior experience, I knew R5 units are skilled mechanics due to their specialization in maintenance and repair. The type of droid I'd always preferred working with, though, is the far more popular and versatile R2 series.

Even though I knew it was probably a long shot, I let my eyes rove out of sheer curiosity over the rest of the tired selection the Jawas had drug out. Near the end of the line stood one tall, humanoid robot of interest, its flashy bronze finish thickly coated in grime.

"Hey, isn't that a protocol droid?" I whispered to Jjerrol.

Protocol droids specialize in languages, interpretation, cultures, and diplomacy. All of these primary functions are geared toward its usual capacities as an administrative assistant, diplomatic aide, and companion for high-level organisms. On the other hand, for individuals like us moisture farmers who are on the last leg of their savings until the harvest, I knew my stepfather would never consider purchasing such a "wasteful luxury."

My brother nodded. "It's been a while since we've last seen one, huh?"

"I wonder how those Jawas were able to make off with something that probably belonged to a highbrow racketeer." I shook my head knowingly.

Property of a mechanical nature tends to "disappear" whenever a sandcrawler rolled into a town. Unfortunately, no one could ever pin anything on the Jawas except the "official" selling and trading they conduct.

"Oh, I'm sure that protocol droid would be more than willing to answer your question," Jjerrol remarked. "In fact, it'd probably tell you its whole life story if it had the chance." His lips curled back into a wry smirk. "The thing's a terrible chatterbox."

"A droid with a personality?" I echoed in surprise. "Sounds like its previous master was negligent in providing it with the occasional memory flush."

"I guess," my brother responded, shrugging indifferently at my useless bit of technical speculation. "Anyway, you should've heard that droid just now. As soon as Papa came near it, it introduced itself as C-3P0, then started rattling off his 'qualifications.' Well, Papa looked at C-3P0 funny and let the droid know he wasn't interested in its 'qualifications,' much less a protocol droid." His eyes twinkled in merriment. "I think C-3P0 was determined to outdo the Jawas in the sales pitch area."

"I'll bet," I agreed, suppressing the urge to chuckle.

Well, I had to admit my stepfather's reasoning in this instance was completely justified. Who the hell needed a protocol droid out in the middle of nowhere?

In the meantime, before my stepfather could finish up the bargaining negotiations with the Jawas over the R5 prototype, I decided to complete my survey on the Jawas' droid medley. Amazingly, I spotted a R2 unit just beyond the protocol druid Jjerrol and I'd just talked about. Its squat, three-legged body, a typical feature of the astromech family that both R2 and R5 models belonged to, appeared to be battered and heavily scoured in sand and dust. However, I could recognize a good deal when it hit me, which was what my stepfather should've done. Why didn't he pick the R2 robot? Was the Jawas' price too rich for his blood? Or had the real jewel amongst the dregs simply been overlooked because of the unadvantageous slot it'd been shoved into? Whatever the case, I decided it was worth a try to make a grab for the machine.

"How about this droid, Papa?"

He didn't glance either at my expectant face nor the robot I was gesturing to. "Carithlee, I've already made my decision."

Disappointed at his initial reaction, I nonetheless chose to plunge on further ahead before I lost my nerve. "Don't you want to at least give it an once-over?"

Jjerrol flashed me a confused expression. After all, I should've known better than to argue with Papa, especially in the wake of the recent upset I'd caused.

Papa swiveled his eyes on me impatiently. "All right, which of these remarkable droids should I inspect again?"

"This R2 unit looks like it's in better shape despite all the sand encrusted on it."

The Jawas exchanged a look with each other. It was then I realized that I'd inadvertently given them an advantage. Those grasping creatures would certainly demand more for the R2 robot now that they knew I thought the R2 unit was in good shape. Because of my idiotic slip-up, Papa would never consider buying R2 instead of R5.

Meanwhile, the droid called C-3P0 spoke for the first time. It turned stiffly to its R2 companion and extolled, "Did you hear that, R2? You might be selected." I rolled my eyes at its childlike enthusiasm and my equally childlike stupidity.

Oddly, R2 let out a shrill beep and backed away a little. A Jawa had to halt its movements with a control device that activated the restraining disk sealed on the droid's front plate.

"R2, that's no way to get a master," C-3P0 admonished. It quickly shut off any further tirade when it was threatened with the same control device.

"I'm going to stay with my original choice" my stepfather instructed the nervous Jawas, who were already beginning to herd the droids back into the sandcrawler. Strangely, Papa regarded the unusual R2 and C-3P0 machines with an almost thoughtful concern before hardening his eyes and facing me again. "Carithlee, take that R5 unit down to the garage and clean it up by dinnertime." My stepfather reached into a compartment on his utility belt in order to supply the proper credits to pay off the Jawas with. "Jjerrol, you stay here for a moment. I have some other work for you to do shortly."

"But, Papa, I was going to-" my brother began to protest.

"You will not be following your sister's example by avoiding your chores," Papa warned him sternly.

My brother glared at me darkly. In this moment, I didn't like my stepfather very much for citing my night in Anchorhead as an "example" of how not to behave. If you asked me, I thought the ploy hit a little too low below the belt. Nevertheless, dragging Jjerrol down with me was no way to solve anything that was my problem alone.

Rather, I directed my downcast mood toward R5. "Come on," I ordered it sullenly, heading back toward the underground garage.


	4. A Good Bargain

**The Awakening **

**Chapter Four: A Good Bargain **

**On a good bargain, think twice. **

**- Proverb of Unknown Origin **

For the rest of the afternoon, I cleaned up the R5 unit, recharged it, and outfitted it with a restraining bolt. All that was left to do to the droid was to take it into Anchorhead and have it undergo a memory flush at Tosche Station. When I brought up the subject at dinner that night, Mama gave me the go-ahead to take care of the task the very next day. She also put me in charge of picking up some new power converters we needed.

Thrilled at the prospect of getting the hell away from the farm, if only to run a couple of errands, I loaded up R5 into my landspeeder as soon as breakfast was over and took off. About halfway to Anchorhead, my landspeeder's metal scanner detected a moving object on the horizon. After watching the scanner for a moment, I quickly realized it was Luke's landspeeder that was heading my way.

"Carithlee! Just the person I wanted to see!" my best friend exclaimed as he pulled up, his face wearing an expression of surprise.

I was treated to a surprise of my own. At the helm of Luke's landspeeder sat C-3PO, the golden protocol droid I had encountered only the day before!

"Well, I'll be damned," I mumbled under my breath.

Tatooine must've been a small planet after all. At least for the Jawas.

Luke followed my gaze to where it rested questioningly on C-3PO. "How do you like the new droid my uncle bought? Isn't it too much?" He shrugged. "Uncle Owen only bought it because Aunt Beru's been on him lately about wanting a droid who can speak Bocce."

Nodding, I recalled a recent conversation I'd had with Luke. He'd told me his uncle Owen had had the misfortune of having not one, but two, droids conk out. Owen's wife Beru saw this as an opportunity to obtain a droid who could speak Bocce, the intergalactic jargon used among traders of differing backgrounds as a way to understand each other. The Bocce-speaking droid would help the Lars in their business dealings for the farm.

"I'll say it's too much. C-3PO was with the lot of droids the Jawas were peddling by the farm the other day." I patted R5, who was in the passenger seat next to me. "This little droid is what we ended up with from that lot."

"An R5. Not bad." R5 beeped appreciatively, and Luke chuckled in amusement. "Nice to meet you, R5." He turned to C-3PO. "So, 3PO, you and R2 were at Carithlee's place yesterday?"

"Quite right, Master Luke," 3PO confirmed. "The young lady was interested in procuring my counterpart, but that bucket of bolts caused too much of a stir to be taken seriously by her family."

"Funny," Luke commented thoughtfully. "Uncle Owen just wanted 3PO at first, then R2 was practically begging Uncle Owen to buy it as well."

Funny, indeed. There was something obviously weird going on with that R2 unit.

This weirdness caused me to ask the next question that came to mind. "Hey, if your uncle bought R2, why isn't it with you right now? Aren't you on your way to Anchorhead like me to give them a memory flush?"

A sheepish expression immediately crossed Luke's face. "Not…exactly. See, I kind of…lost R2." A pause. "Actually…it ran off."

"Huh?" Luke was getting as annoyingly cryptic as that damn R2.

His eyes fell downward. "I feel pretty stupid for leaving its restraining bolt off it after it told me doing that would bring up the rest of the message."

Now I was even more confused. "Message? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Yesterday, when I was cleaning R2, I accidentally triggered a scrambled holorecording of a beautiful woman."

The change of pitch in my best friend's voice made me smile. The "beautiful woman" impressed him. Too much, in fact. He probably had a silly crush on her, and I intended to give him hell for it.

"Luke, you're such naïve farm boy," I teased. "I bet that holorecording is so old, the 'beautiful woman' on it is already a plump, middle-aged matron with a brood of kids to raise."

"R2 assured Master Luke and me that the holorecording was old data," 3PO grumbled. "I have no idea where it came from."

"I don't think it's old data," Luke retorted defensively.

A bit too defensively, I noted with satisfaction. Nevertheless, I knew something was seriously wrong if a droid ran off after playing a scrambled message that no one, not even its "counterpart," knew about.

"So you think the holorecording has something to do with R2 running off?"

"Well, all I got out of the message is that the woman was wanting the help of some guy named Obi-Wan Kenobi. I'm wondering if Ben Kenobi might know who that is."

"Ben Kenobi, eh?" I repeated.

Ben Kenobi's role in our community could've been likened unto that local colorful character which every community has. A grizzled old man, he lived alone somewhere on the fringes of the Western Dune Sea and wasn't seen much by anyone except when he occasionally came around to trade with the Jawas.

"Are you on your way now to see Ben?" I asked, concerned for his safety in such an area infested with Tusken Raiders. "It'll be difficult for you to find him when everyone knows just the general direction of where he lives and not an exact location."

Luke's jaw had a determined outline to it. "A general direction is all I need since I only intend to get R2 back before Uncle Owen misses it."

3PO glanced around nervously. "A sensible course of action, Master Luke."

For once, I had to agree with 3PO. I sensed nothing but possible danger coming from a further association with this Obi-Wan Kenobi. It was best to give the two droids a memory flush and not ask further questions.

"I'll let you know if I see R2 on my way to Anchorhead," I promised, indicating the comlink on my utility belt.

"I appreciate the offer." Luke studied me carefully. "By the way, how was your visit with Biggs last night?"

"Thanks for telling me what Biggs was planning to do." It wasn't very fair of me to be scolding Luke like I was, but I was feeling bad enough about Biggs' departure to throw out such a cheap shot.

My best friend merely shrugged. "I figured it was better for Biggs to tell you himself."

"I know," I sighed. Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes. I blinked them away. "I miss Biggs already."

"I do, too." Luke's tone of voice was as sad as mine, yet it was also strangely comforting to hear someone else echo my thoughts.

A moment of silence passed between us before 3PO cut in, jerking us out of our contemplation. "Perhaps we should press on, Master Luke?"

"Sure thing, 3PO." Luke turned to me, smiling. "See you later, Carithlee."

"Later," I replied, smiling back.

I was still smiling even after I lost sight of Luke. As long as we had each other, I knew I could endure life on Tatooine for as long as I needed to.

& & &

"It'll be about an hour, Carithlee," my friend Fixer informed me.

"Fine by me," I declared.

R5 had just been hooked up to the memory flush machine at the back of Tosche Station. Done with that task, Fixer returned to his post at the control desk up front. As always, he looked right at home behind that cluttered desk in his tan mechanic's jumper suit stained with dust and grease. His dark skin, which stood in stark contrast to his light hair and green eyes, was slick with the thick layer of sunscreen oil he slathered on to protect himself from the rays of the twin suns.

"You also wanted two power converters, right?" Fixer prompted.

I nodded, and he retrieved the power converters for me from a big basket of assorted mechanical parts next to his chair. After giving Fixer the amount of credits needed to pay for both the power converters and the memory flush, I happened to glance over at the unoccupied computer-assisted pool game pushed against the wall.

"So everyone is stuck at home because of the upcoming harvest." Obviously, it was more of statement than a question.

He just shrugged. "You got it. Business is bad this time of year. All the farmers are holding out. I'm lucky to even get what you have to offer me." He smiled a little. "You wanna play some pool?"

Before I could respond, the front door whooshed open, and in stepped a petite woman wearing dingy brown pants and a matching tunic. She ran a hand through her shoulder-length ebony hair, fixing her deep brown eyes on me as she did so. The intense nature of her gaze made me a little uncomfortable. I got the odd sense that I had seen her before, yet I could not place where, when, and why. I was almost certain she wasn't a local.

"Hello, may I help you?" Fixer greeted the woman, moving out from behind the control desk.

The woman immediately switched her attention from me to Fixer. Quite seamlessly, I might add. If I hadn't known better, I could've been mistaken in my belief that the stranger had been studying me.

She pulled out a blaster from her utility belt. "Yes, I believe you do repairs on blasters?"

"I sure do."

Fixer looked quite eager at the prospect of conducting another sale. I knew he needed it. Therefore, I decided to be on my way, although I had no idea what I would do until R5 would be ready to be picked up.

"See you later, Fixer. I'll be back."

"Okay, Carithlee," Fixer said, taking the blaster from the woman.

His slightly dismissive tone of voice suggested he was already engrossed in the particulars of his current transaction. The woman, however, glanced at me once more as I was exiting Tosche Station. It was then I realized how much the woman resembled my mother in physical appearance, even though she was probably no older than her late twenties. Could that woman be…?

A flash of white suddenly swooped down in front of my distracted face. Startled, I narrowly missed colliding into it.

"Watch where you're going!" a guttural voice growled. I whirled around and was surprised to discover a pair of stormtroopers standing before me.

This was the first time I had spotted any stormtroopers in the past year or so. Their black-and-white, bug-like spacesuit armor was never to be seen unless some kind of civil unrest was at hand. Acutely aware of that fact, I wanted nothing to do with these dogs of the military. Thus, I sought to remove myself from their presence as soon as possible.

"Excuse me," I mumbled in as humble a tone as I could muster and began to walk away.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of the stormtroopers watch me for a moment. His buddy nudged him, and the both of them continued on their path. I let out the breath of air I had been holding in. Lucky for me, I couldn't get a good look at the stormtroopers' face through their helmets. I'd had enough of people staring at me for one day.

& & &

I spent the rest of my waiting time wandering around Anchorhead. When I returned to Tosche Station, the woman was long gone. My curiosity got the better of me, and I inquired about her from Fixer. He told me she merely gave him the name of Mari and requested that the blaster be ready by mid-afternoon. The name Mari rang a distant bell for me, but I still couldn't bring forth the reason why I seemed to remember her from somewhere. Frustrated, I decided to head back to the farm before Mama contacted me on the comlink wanting a progress report.

My metal scanner picked up something while I was in deep thought about the events of today. This time, I had no idea what the hell flashed on my screen since it was located several hundred meters away behind a massive sand dune directly in my line of vision. R5 provided me with a clue, though: a beep. The droid emitted that beep with such a mournfulness that I became cautious about what was ahead.

"What is it, R5?"

Of course, R5 gave me no answer that I could understand. Too bad 3PO wasn't here to translate R5's beeps. The damned thing did have its uses after all.

Applying the brake, I slowed down the landspeeder as I approached the sand dune. I hopped out of the landspeeder upon coming to a complete stop and told R5, "I'll go check things out."

That climb to the top of the sand dune wafted down sounds of voices. Basic was not being spoken. Rather, it was the almost unintelligible language of the Jawas. However, Jawas were not the only organism to greet my eyes as I edged far enough over the sand dune's peak to see the figures that had been responsible for setting off my metal scanner. Five Jawas were conversing with ten stormtroopers at gunpoint! Strangely enough, the stormtroopers were all seated on banthas. How many Sandpeople had they killed for the banthas?

"So you sold an R2-D2 unit and a C-3P0 protocol droid recently?" one stormtrooper asked. Judging from his authoritative demeanor, he obviously had to be the leader of the stormtrooper group.

"Yes," a Jawa replied tersely. I instantly recognized the clan design on the cloak of the Jawa leader. He was the one who had been at my and Luke's farms.

Naturally, he and the minions around him were squirming under the close scrutiny of the stormtroopers and desperately sought the refuge of their nearby sandcrawler. I myself was very concerned about what was transpiring here. Why would stormtroopers care about a couple of droids? Specifically, what kind of information did R2 contain?

"What is the name of the farmers you sold the droids to?"

My heart skipped a beat as the Jawa leader grunted out, "The name is Skywalker. Their homestead is just three kilometers to the east of here."

"Thank you. We will not need your services any longer. However, I regret we will not be able to pay the reward we originally told you we would pay for your cooperation."

With that, five stormtroopers opened fire on the Jawas. They were dead before their bodies hit the ground. I was morbidly impressed with their technical skill. The stormtroopers could scarcely have shot more than one shot per Jawa.

The other Jawas within the sandcrawler must have heard the commotion, for the door to the sandcrawler swiftly closed and began to trudge off. Fleeing from an unpleasant scene was a typical Jawa response, but who could blame them? Their leaders had just been ruthlessly murdered, even if it was due to their insatiable greed for money.

"Stop that sandcrawler!" the leader of the stormtrooper group ordered, this time in Basic.

I watched in horror as the stormtroopers aimed their blasters at the twin external fuel tanks located at the back of the sandcrawler and blew them up. The sandcrawler door swung open again, sending forth many frightened Jawas and droids. All ten stormtroopers destroyed both organic and nonorganic lifeforms with the same precision they had dealt to the Jawa leaders. No prisoners were being taken.

While this savage situation was unfolding before my eyes, I almost vomited right there on the spot. Nevertheless, upon realizing I must prevent the same bloody fate befalling the Skywalkers, I somehow found the ability to move my body back to the landspeeder. I kicked the landspeeder into high gear and took off, hoping I wouldn't be too late.

3PO and R2 hadn't been such a good bargain after all.


	5. Fire

**The Awakening **

Chapter 5: Fire 

Fire does not extinguish fire.   
Greek proverb

Pure, unadulterated adrenaline propelled me toward the Lars' moisture farm. My mind kept reeling at the magnitude of imminent danger Owen and Beru were in, not to mention Luke if he had already returned home with 3PO and R2. Honestly, I hadn't the foggiest idea of what I could actually do to get them out of harm's way. All I knew was that I had to do _something._ They were like my second family. I wouldn't allow the Empire to claim them without a fight.

As soon as I reached my destination, I leaped out and rushed directly to the subterranean courtyard steps. Just as I'd suspected, Beru's stout, short, sandy-haired figure stood there in the courtyard like she always did in the early afternoons to water her decorative plants.

"Beru!" I gasped, running as fast as I could down the steps.

Startled, she whirled around, her plump, round face lighting up upon spotting me. "Carithlee, how nice of you to visit." As quickly as her smile had appeared, however, she frowned slightly. "Have you seen Luke today? He left very early this morning and told me he had some things to do. Lunchtime has already passed, though, and he didn't return by midday like he said he would."

My heart immediately sank. How could Luke have not arrived home yet? Had Luke been attacked by Sandpeople while searching for R2 in the Jundland Wastes? Or did the Imperials somehow catch up with him?

Whatever Luke's present fate, I pushed my worry for him back into the recesses of my mind and focused on Beru and Owen. "Beru, where is Owen?"

"He went in the garage to work on one of our droids." Beru studied me closely, concerned. "Dear, what's the matter? Why are you acting so strangely? Has something happened with Luke?"

"Look, I'm not quite sure what's going on, but you have to believe me when I say those droids you bought yesterday are bad news. I saw stormtroopers out in the desert talking to the Jawas about them. As soon as the Jawas mentioned you have the droids now, the stormtroopers killed all the Jawas and set their sandcrawler on fire! The stormtroopers are on their way here at this very moment!"

Beru's deep cerulean eyes, much like Luke's own blue ones, widened considerably in shock. Grasping my hand roughly, she declared, "Come with me!"

Down we speeded even farther underground toward the Lars' garage. The dim light in the tunnel wasn't enough for me. It seemed as though the darkness was pushing its heavy weight upon me and swallowing me alive. If we didn't hurry ourselves, the Empire would swallow us alive, too…

The feeling of dread temporarily passed as Beru and I stepped onto the threshold of the garage doorway. Owen turned around at the sound of our rapid footsteps. The towering, portly, stern-faced man sent a scowl my way as dark as the hair on his head. I knew he wasn't pleased with being left to complete mechanical repairs by himself and probably assumed I was the cause for Luke's absence.

Luke's aunt also noticed her husband's displeasure and intervened. "The Empire is searching for those new droids of ours. Carithlee witnessed stormtroopers destroy a whole sandcrawler after they discovered the Jawas sold us the droids. They're approaching the farm even as we speak."

Owen's features dramatically altered from a look of gruffness to utter disbelief. He stared at me sharply. "You've been with Luke, haven't you? There's no way you could've known about our new droids had you not run into him since he took them with him this morning."

"Where _is _Luke, dear? You still haven't told us." I could sense the pleading in Beru's tone, and I sighed.

"Yes, I did see Luke by chance today. However, he only had the protocol droid with him. The reason he left so early was because he had to find the R2 unit that'd run off the night before. The R2 unit is convinced that some guy named Obi-wan Kenobi needs to receive a message it has about a young woman wanting his help."

At the words "Obi-wan Kenobi," both Beru and Owen appeared as if they had been hit in the solar plexus. I was struck with an odd feeling that there was a connection of some kind between the two and this Obi-wan Kenobi.

"I should have known he would be involved," Owen muttered, running a hand across his face wearily.

There was silence for a moment. I didn't dare speak for fear I would disturb the apprehensive look Beru and Owen shared. I was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt they were aware of far more than they let on.

Like the eerie calm that precludes a sandstorm, our fragile stillness was ruthlessly interrupted by a terrible explosion sound overhead. It was followed with an equally deafening crash of something, most probably a section of door, falling down. Heavy, deliberate footsteps thundered above us. The stormtroopers had broken into the Lars' living area!

"This is the Empire," a calm, emotionless voice announced. "Owen and Beru Lars, come out. We know you have two stolen Imperial droids in your possession. If you resist, you will not be spared."

"Carithlee, I want you to get out of here!" Owen abruptly snapped. "The Empire isn't expecting you to be here."

"Wha-what?" I stammered.

"You have to warn Luke," Beru chimed in softly.

"But…what about you two? I came to help you!"

Pulling a blaster out of his utility belt, Owen's forehead furrowed deeply. "We're sorry to have mixed you up in this, Carithlee. It should have been our responsibility alone to deal with the situation."

Panic suddenly arose in my throat. Luckily, I managed to force the emotion away before it could take hold. We had more important things to attend to without my becoming hysterical. The stormtroopers' footsteps now adopted a hollow, echoing quality as they entered the tunnel Beru and me had been through earlier. They repeated their ominous warning of surrendering to them.

"This way!" Owen urged, lightly pushing me toward the hidden tunnel branching off on the other side of the garage.

The hidden tunnel opened up onto the east backside of the farm through a well-concealed trapdoor in the sand. To Owen and Beru's chagrin, I'd learned this handy little fact about the hidden tunnel as a child when a mischievous Luke compelled Biggs and me to play in there. Obviously, the sole purpose of a hidden tunnel wasn't for amusing children. It was built long ago for escape reasons should the Tusken Raiders attack and succeed in securing access to the farmhouse. In fact, every farm in the area contained some type of escape tunnel, if not several of them.

I slammed my palm on the small panel in the wall that allowed the entrance to the hidden tunnel to slide back. No light was provided in the tight space due to its increased risk for discovery from the enemy. Taking a deep breath, I hurled myself inside just in time for the short time frame in which the fugitive had to enter before the door closed on its own.

Despite the imperativeness of the mission discharged to me by Owen and Beru, my feet refused to whisk me away. A small shred of hope inside me still fervently wished to assist them in any manner feasible.

"Owen and Beru Lars, you are under arrest-" the stormtrooper leader began to announce.

All my hopes were cruelly dashed as I heard shots immediately being exchanged. Owen had decided to act before the Empire would inevitably gain the upper hand. Within seconds, a scream and the sickening thud of a body reached my ears.

"Beru!" Owen cried mournfully.

Tears sprang to my eyes. I had to cover my mouth with both hands to keep the sobs from being audible. In that moment, their emotions came alive to me. Beru's pain upon death had become mine almost as if I had experienced it myself. I could also feel Owen's grief surge through me vividly. I imagined him collapsing to his knees beside his slain wife and cradling her in his arms, for I could hear the normally emotionally restrained man drop his blaster to the floor and begin weeping for the worst possible loss he could suffer.

"I will ask one last time," the stormtrooper leader cruelly sneered. "Where are the droids?"

"You trespass on _my_ farm, attack me and my wife, and expect me to be cooperative in the end?" Owen spat. "Go to hell!"

"If you want to be belligerent, we will be more than happy to oblige you. We know of another in your household who could certainly supply us with the whereabouts of the droids." The stormtrooper leader directed the last part of his speech at his subordinates. "Kill this man and burn his poor excuse of a farm up."

Sorrow tightened its already viselike grip on me as the stormtroopers opened fire on Owen. The sound of soft flesh being ripped apart by blaster shots again filled my ears like it had when Beru had been murdered. It was then I found the strength to flee from the scene. I couldn't bear to listen to Owen's body hit the ground. I was certain I wouldn't be able to hold back any longer the strong nausea I'd been subjected to ever since the Jawa massacre.

The exit to the hidden tunnel rapidly met me. Steeling myself, I unlatched the trapdoor, prepared for whatever I would face next.

& & &

Ironically, I was hightailing it away from the farm within a few minutes. My first task had been to secure my landspeeder, which I'd foolishly abandoned in the front in full view of the Empire. Nevertheless, given that my method of escape had required me to emerge from the back of the farm, I could use the element of surprise to my advantage.

Standing between my landspeeder and me was a lone stormtrooper, who was too busy rummaging through its contents to keep watch on the banthas stomping impatiently in place while waiting for their new masters. R5 continuously whined at the intruder. I quietly pulled out my blaster, screwed on the silencer, and aimed it at the stormtrooper's head. A couple squeezes of the trigger sent him crumpling to the sand. Blood seeped out of his helmet.

R5 whistled cheerfully at my arrival. Jumping in, I performed a perfunctory pat on the droid's domed top before putting my blaster away and turning on the landspeeder. I was not a moment too soon.

"You, there! Stop!"

A quick glance behind me revealed the nine other stormtroopers pouring out of the farmhouse. As always, the stormtrooper leader claimed the front of the line, and it naturally was he who had barked out the harsh command to me just now. I was sorely tempted to raise my blaster at the bastard, but the fight would not be a fair one with all his minions surrounding him. I could not let Beru and Owen's sacrifice end in futility.

Acrid smoke assaulted my nostrils, clearly illuminating the reason why the stormtroopers had appeared: the fire had been ignited. This realization brought home the heavy reality that there really was nothing else left for me to stay for. I gunned the engine and roared off.

The get away would not be a complete clean one. Blaster gunfire instantly started to zing around me. Although I crouched low to avoid them, a single shot still managed to pierce my shoulder, sending a trickle of blood to trail down my arm. Fortunately, my wound was merely a graze, so I continued steady on my course toward the Jundland Wastes. Besides, bombardment was the only option available for the stormtroopers. They could not hope to catch up to my swift landspeeder on plodding banthas.

Hate settled into my brain like a fog as I raced along. Much as I loathed the Empire for their violent ways, I detested myself even more for lowering my actions to their standard. I'd deemed it necessary to kill another sentient being. It was the first time I had ever done that, and for what? Revenge had been my battle cry.

_I am with you, Carithlee._

What was this? A soft, barely audible whisper had projected itself into my head, yet how was this possible? Even more astonishing, I found myself able to reply: _Who are you?_

_Carithlee, I know you are suffering and seeking answers. Return to the site of the Jawa slaughter, and all shall be revealed._

My subconscious reacted with a will of its own, forcing me to backtrack. Who, or what would I find there? Whatever the case, I felt with a strange certainty that I could trust the source of the voice.

& & &

The Jawas' now overturned sandcrawler was the first thing to meet my view. R5, who'd been silent the whole time, beeped softly at the sight. As we drew closer, the strewn body parts of droids were the only other familiar objects to me. Oddly, the Jawa bodies were missing. Where had they gone?

Such a mystery was solved upon my detection of a funeral pyre of dead Jawas blazing a short distance away. A human and two droids were piling the last of the Jawas on top. I immediately recognized the whole party and hopped out, resolved to confront them.

"Ben Kenobi!" I exclaimed in surprise at the grizzled old man swathed in dingy brown pants and tunic. A long cape of the same color swept to his booted feet. "Why do you have Luke Skywalker's droids? Are you the one who summoned me?"

"I'm afraid I didn't," Ben answered, studying me thoughtfully.

"It is I who summoned you, Carithlee," another person behind me replied.

Spinning around, I recognized the figure standing before me as the stranger who's called herself Mari! My head swan with countless questions.

"Who are you?" I again demanded, this time aloud.

"I left you my name as a clue with that mechanic friend of yours," she replied cryptically, which only further fueled my anger and confusion.

"I do not know you," I retorted with barely restrained emotion.

Startled at my reaction, the woman's face morphed into a surprising expression of profound sadness. "Ben, I didn't want to admit it, but you were right. Owen and Rabé have let Luke and Carithlee's heritages sink into shameful obscurity."

Rabé? This Mari knew my mother? No wonder I'd thought the two looked similar. They must be somehow related!

"Perhaps it was better that way. To ensure Luke and Carithlee's safety," Ben interjected, approaching Mari and me. I noticed 3P0 and R2 remained a discreet distance away.

The fresh, acute memory of the Lars' deaths floated into my consciousness, causing me to burst out, "How can you say such a thing? I bore witness to Owen and Beru's murders and barely escaped with my life. What is worth protecting so much that you're willing to be killed by the Empire for it?"

Mari and Ben each favored me with a somber look. "You and Luke have only been exposed to a small portion of the evils of the Empire," Mari intoned gravely.

"Luke!" I gasped. "Does he know about his aunt and uncle?"

"Yes," Ben verified. Sweeping his hand across the grisely scene before us, he added, "Luke guessed as much when I revealed to him my suspicion that the Empire had probably killed these Jawas. They'd tried to make it seem as if the Sandpeople were the culprits, but I noticed discrepancies between their setup and the way the Tusken Raiders actually carry out their attacks." Ben scrutinized me in an appraising manner. "I'll spare you further detail about my findings since I can sense you witnessed this violent exchange as well. That's why you went to the Lars' farm, right? To warn them?"

I nodded numbly, marveling at the sharp perceptiveness Ben displayed. For that matter, I wondered once again how Mari could send me telepathic messages. Despite their ordinary appearances, it was obvious through my interactions with them that they had not led entirely ordinary lives. The same was true of my own family, Luke's aunt and uncle, even Biggs to a certain extent. An odd feeling of betrayal permeated my mind. Did I really not know the people closest to me as well as I thought I did?

At least I could predict ably enough on one matter in regards to Luke. "How long ago did Luke run off to his home after he figured out Beru and Owen were in danger?"

"Within a short time of your arrival," Mari supplied. "Since we knew he'd eventually return, we decided to give the Jawas a proper burial. They don't deserve to be fodder of desert scavengers. They suffered enough at their deaths."

The apparent sincerity of her statement struck me as unexpected. Rarely did anyone bother to exhibit compassion toward the Jawas. They were a bit too careless about making enemies when it came to their stealing other organisms' property for profit.

"Carithlee," Mari continued, the tone of her voice growing even gentler, "it is to be expected the carnage that unfolded around you affected you deeply. Don't blame for Owen and Beru's deaths. You did all you could for them."

"At any rate, you and Luke both acted very rashly for attempting to take on the Empire by yourselves," Ben admonished, glancing at the dried blood on my shoulder wound. I inwardly cringed. "The Empire is ruthless toward any opposition. Strength must be found in numbers."

Ben's words gave me the first inkling of what was going on since the mystery of R2's sudden disappearance this morning. Letting my vision drift toward R2 and 3PO, who were still busily tending to the Jawa funeral pyre, I boldly asked, "You're supporters of the Rebellion, aren't you? That's why the Empire is so relentless about capturing the droids. It has something they want, something to do with the garbled message R2 has that Luke couldn't get to play in its entirety."

A hint of the flippant humor Ben usually present leaked itself onto his face. "Something like that. Of course, the situation is a little more complicated than simply being a Rebel."

"Try me, Obi-Wan Kenobi," I dared, feeling a surge of power as another piece of the puzzle fell into place."

Mari displayed amazement at my behavior. "You truly are your father," she commented. "

"My father?" I echoed. "You knew my father?"

I'd never heard anything about my real father except that he'd died when I was young. I'd always wanted to know more, but my mother's perpetual closed mouth policy convinced me it was futile to demand additional information. As for Luke, he'd never known either of his parents. His uncle had only divulged to him that his father had been a navigator on merchant vessels.

This current opportunity to learn about my father from Ben and Mari excited yet scared me. Before I could proceed further, I had to know something.

"Please…how did you two know my father?" I inquired eagerly.

For the first time since I'd met him many years ago as a child, Ben actually looked far older than his years. "Obi-wan Kenobi is the name I went by when I was a Jedi Knight," he revealed. "I knew both your father and Luke's father as fellow Jedi."

"I, too, was once a Jedi," Mari added. "Your father was my master for teaching me the Jedi arts."

Astonishment charged at me like a furious, bloodthirsty Tusken Raider. Mentally, I was down for the count. Luke and I had Jedi for fathers? How could it be? But what other explanation would account for the present state of affairs so completely?

Like Luke, I also didn't know much about the Jedi. In the time of the Republic, they'd wielded quite a bit of influence over the political sphere. After the Emperor seized control of the government, he proclaimed them "enemies of the state." Most of the Jedi were subsequently wiped out. The exact details of why the Jedi were outlawed and hunted down by the Empire were lost to me. Nevertheless, their elimination still seemed odd to me, considering the high level of respect they'd garnered over the centuries as the altruistic defenders of the galaxy whose strength rested in their spiritual power.

Rumors about Jedi survivors continued to persist. I could've cared less. The Jedi as an institution were as obsolete as the Treadwell that'd died on me a few days ago. That is, until I discovered my father was a part of it all. Although I felt a little ashamed of previous attitude, I was determined to uncover more.

For the moment, my will would not be honored. A second landspeeder abruptly pulled up, containing the physical shell of a spiritually broken man. All mediations on the subject of my father dissipated.

"Luke!" I hollered mournfully while my best friend staggered out of the vehicle.

Nary another thought crossed my frozen mind as I blindly rushed to him and collapsed into his waiting arms. We wept together silently, taking solace in the collective heaving of our bodies, hoping and praying to the gods there was a possible end to the destruction.


	6. What Is Left

**The Awakening**

**Chapter Six: What Is Left**

**Count not what is lost but what is left.**

**- Chinese proverb**

For the longest moment, neither Mari nor Ben spoke to break the sorrowful silence between Luke and me. I almost wished they would. Perhaps then I'd awaken from my stupor and summon up the will to exact my revenge against the Empire.

As I pulled Luke even closer to me, a fresh round of tears clouding my vision, Ben finally ventured in a soft, grave voice, "I share your sorrow, Luke. There is nothing you could have done. Had you been there, you'd be dead, too, and the droids would be in the hands of the Imperials. Not even the Force-"

"Damn your Force!" Luke snarled with abrupt violence. He wrenched my body away from him and whirled around to glare at the old man. Something about the set to his jaw belonged to a much older face. "All right, Ben, we'll do things your way. I'll take you to the spaceport at Mos Eisley. I want to go with you to Alderaan."

Shock scattered throughout my mind like a fast-acting poison. "What do you mean, Luke? You can't leave Tatooine…not like this."

"Don't you understand? There's nothing left for me here." My best friend's eyes turned to something beyond sand and rock and canyon walls. "I have to become a Jedi like my father. I must also join the Rebellion. It's the only way I'll obtain any justice for the Empire killing my aunt and uncle…"

Luke paused, the words backing up like a logjam in his throat, and Ben placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "I'll do my best to see that you get what you want," Ben promised.

A sense of indignant jealousy washed over me at the sight of Ben, a relative stranger, comforting Luke with such familiarity. Even if he had intimately known Luke's father, Ben acted far too assuming for his own good. It was simply unnerving.

Suddenly, Mari approached me from behind and put a hand on my shoulder, which mirrored Ben's position to Luke. This similarity annoyed me greatly until Mari uttered a statement that caused my blood to run cold. "Carithlee, you must share the same fate as Luke since it's no longer safe for you to remain on Tatooine."

Before I could react any further, Luke's head snapped around, his eyes flashing with alarm. "The Empire didn't also sink their clutches into Carithlee's family, did they?" he demanded fiercely.

"No, her family is fine for the present as far as we know," Mari reassured him. "However, if Carithlee were to return to them, she would put them in danger because the stormtroopers who murdered your aunt and uncle spotted her as she escaped from your farm. She'd rushed there immediately after witnessing the Jawa massacre that occurred on this very spot. Her sole object was to warn you and your family of the danger you were in. Sadly, she was too late."

The full meaning of Mari's words hit Luke, causing the blood in his face to drain away. His eyes swiveled toward mine, searching my dismayed expression for any sign of refutation, and upon finding none, switched his attention back to Mari.

"My God, it's worse than I thought," Luke murmured in disbelief. "Mari, I was under the impression you'd told Carithlee what had happened to my aunt and uncle. I never imagined she had actually witnessed the whole thing." He faced me again, taking one of my hands in his. "Carithlee, I'm really sorry you were brought into this mess. I would've spared you if I could."

"Most likely I would've still been involved by sheer virtue of, like you, having a dead Jedi father whose close comrade is out looking for his fallen friend's offspring and is simultaneously keeping a dangerous secret for the Rebels. Beyond those scant facts, though, I don't know much else."

My best friend's bewilderment increased by leaps and bounds. "You still don't know the entire story?"

"Your arrival interrupted the process," Ben elaborated matter-of-factly. "Since we're all together now, let's head back to my home to finish explaining things to Carithlee. With stormtroopers and Sandpeople both roaming about, it's not safe to remain in the open for very long."

& & &

The old man was true to his word. As soon as he was done with making his suggestion, we piled into the two landspeeders and took off. Our destination was one I'd never been to before, but I wasn't surprised to learn that Ben inhabited a cave. His reputation as a wandering hermit elicited the expectation that he wouldn't set much stock in a permanent dwelling. The little amount of furniture and technological comforts he possessed only served to confirm his nomadic lifestyle.

Almost at once, Ben commenced the task of revealing what kind of message R2 held in its memory banks. It felt odd to hear for the first time a hologram that had probably been already viewed by everyone else present. The three-dimensional image, less than one-third of a meter square yet precisely defined, exuded from R2's glowing front. Despite the sharpness of the portrait, the hologram flickered and jiggled unsteadily, as if the recording had been made and installed with haste.

"General Obi-wan Kenobi," began the mellifluous voice of the hologram, a petite, dark-haired girl imposingly dressed in a virginal white gown. "I am Princess Leia Organa, and I present myself in the name of the world family of Alderaan and of the Alliance to Restore the Republic. I break your solitude at the bidding of my father, Bail Organa, Viceroy and First Chairman of the Alderaan system.

"Years ago, General, you served the Old Republic in the Clone Wars. Now my father begs you to aid him once again in our most desperate hour. He would have you join him on Alderaan. You _must_ go to him.

"I regret that I am unable to present my father's request. My mission to meet with you personally has failed. Hence I have been forced to resort to this secondary method of communication.

"Information vital to the survival of the Alliance has been secured in the mind of this R2 droid. My father will know how to retrieve it. I plead with you to see this unit safely delivered to Alderaan."

Leia paused, and when she continued, her words were hurried and less laced with formality. "You must help me, Obi-wan Kenobi. You are my last hope. Agents of the Empire will capture me. They will learn nothing from me. Everything to be learned lies locked in the memory of this droid. Do not fail us, Obi-wan Kenobi. Do not fail _me_."

A small cloud of tridemsional static replaced the hologram, and then it vanished completely. With the stage thus set, Ben, Mari, and Luke proceeded to fill in the holes. What followed was an interwoven narrative as fantastical as my own recent experiences had been.

While I was in Anchorhead tending to R5's memory flush, Luke at last encountered Ben Kenobi. The old man had saved my best friend from two Tusken Raiders trying to kill him and rob him of R2 and 3PO. The two of them then traveled to Ben's place for dual purposes: to allow Luke to repair 3PO, who'd been knocked about in the Sandpeople scuffle; and to allow Ben to listen to the message R2 contained that was obviously meant for him.

Naturally, once Luke discovered what Ben had been in the past and what the old man was called to do now, my best friend didn't quite know what to think of Ben anymore. Ben further complicated matters by declaring he'd known Luke's father and supplied the eager young man with details. Therefore, according to Ben, Anakin Skywalker, Luke's father, was an exceptional Jedi Knight and pilot. Unfortunately, Anakin was killed by Darth Vader, a student of Ben's who'd turned again the Jedi and assisted the Empire in eliminating any Jedi successfully located. Nonetheless, Luke could be the first newly trained Jedi in years if he were to accompany Ben to Alderaan.

Dismayed at Ben unsettling the comfortable notions Owen had planted into his head, Luke outright refused to leave offplanet with Ben, but my best friend still agreed to transport the old man as far as Anchorhead. The offer must've been a method by which to assuage Luke's guilt at abandoning Ben because the hermit would find it easy enough to obtain passage to Mos Eisley's spaceport from Anchorhead. Before they could head out, though, Mari Amithest appeared on the scene. She announced herself to be an agent of the Rebel Alliance sent undercover to secretly monitor Princess Leia's mission and be back up in case Leia happened to fail. It was much too appropriate for this woman to occupy such a role, for she and Ben went back a long way, all the way to when she was a child and a student of Joclad Danva, my father.

There was another connection of importance that she had to keep watch over: me. Besides having Mari the Rebel for a first cousin from my maternal side (which was already chock full of well-known past and present members of the Rebellion that I knew absolutely nothing about), I had the additional distinction of being dubbed by the stormtroopers on Tatooine as a person of interest in regards to ascertaining the whereabouts of 3PO and R2 due to my association with Luke. Considering how fast the Empire could mobilize, Mari determined her next move would be to snatch me up in Anchorhead where she'd last spotted me. Of course, Ben and Luke had to tag along, too, since she would need their help at some point.

As the reader well knows, by the time Ben, Luke, and Mari did catch up with me, it was too late. I was in the thick of something before I knew what hit me. The consequences of my becoming involved carried a hefty penalty: self-imposed exile from Tatooine. Mentally, I had railed mightily against accepting this path. Nevertheless, confronted with what my best friend had lost and what I stood to lose myself, I had no other recourse except to relent. Neither my friends no family would learn of my exact fate until circumstances were safer. Or perhaps nothing would ever improve. All bets were off, and everything was luck of the draw from now on.

At least I wouldn't have to stumble through the ordeal alone. Luke would be with me, plus Biggs was somewhere searching for a Rebel cell. As for Mari and Ben, they extended an invitation to teach me the Jedi arts alongside Luke. Ben and Mari's reasoning for imparting their knowledge to us was simple: to give Luke and me an advantage in any situation requiring us to defend ourselves by tapping into the massive power of the Force.

What precisely is the Force? If one is expecting a strict, concise definition, that individual will be sorely disappointed. No one, not even scientists, have been able to devise a proper explanation. The best theory out there is that it's an energy field generated by living things. Only certain organisms could recognize the Force for what it is. Even fewer could make use of it. Eventually, this group became known as Jedi. Because the Force-sensitive quality tends to be passed on genetically, Mari and Ben surmised Luke and me should do well in our Jedi training with once powerful Jedi for fathers.

A lightsaber, the Jedi's main weapon of choice, was the first item Luke and me needed. Earlier, Luke had already received an old one of his father's from Ben, who had kept it all these years in readiness of the day Luke decided to follow in Anakin's footsteps. Mari, too, outfitted me with a hand-me-down lightsaber, only this time it was one of hers, not my father's. Luke's and my lightsabers consisted of the same basic set-up: a short, thick handgrip with a couple of switches situated on the grip. Directly above this handgrip was a circular metal disk barely larger than in diameter than my spread palm. The reverse side of the disk was polished to a mirrored brightness. A number of unfamiliar jewellike components were built into both handle and disk, including what appeared to be the tiniest power cell I'd ever seen. Judging from the power cell's rating form, lightsabers seemed to require quite a bit of energy.

When a brightly colored button near the lightsaber's disk was pressed, the disk brought forth a beam as thick around as an average human thumb and a meter in length. Depending on the lightsaber, the blade color could vary. Luke's was blue-white, mine was green. A lightsaber's shaft was dense to the point of opacity, didn't fade, and remained as brilliant and intense at its far end as it did next to the disk. Strangely, no heat could be detected from the lightsaber. Although it was the first time that Luke and I had caught a glimpse of this extremely rare weapon, we knew enough about lightsabers to not touch the beam, which could drill a hole straight through the rock wall of Ben's cave- or through a sentient being.

After my brief introduction to lightsabers and the Force, Ben and Mari chose to leave off and reveal more in-depth information later. We had delayed our departure to Mos Eisley long enough. The sooner we arrived in Mos Eisley, the better.

& & &

Leaving the landspeeders parked near the edge of the sandstone bluff, Luke, Ben, Mari, and I ambled over and peered down at the tiny regularized bumps erupting from the sun-baked plain below. The haphazard collage of low-grade concrete, stone, and plastoid structures spread outward from a central power-and-water distribution like the spokes of a wheel. Actually, the town was considerably bigger than it seemed since a good portion of it lay underground. Looking like bomb craters from this distance, the smooth circular depressions of launch stations pockmarked the cityscape.

A brisk gale scoured the tired ground. It whipped the sand around my legs and feet as I adjusted my protective goggles.

"There it is," Ben murmured, indicating the unimpressive collection of buildings, "Mos Eisley- the ideal place for us to lose ourselves while we seek passage offplanet. Not a more wretched lot of villainy and disreputable types exists on Tatooine. Still, the Empire has been alerted to us, so we must be very cautious."

Luke wore a determined look. "I'm ready for anything."

I wondered what "anything" might entail, but I refrained from voicing my concern and simply lead the way back to the landspeeders.

Unlike Anchorhead, there were enough people in Mos Eisley to require movement in the heat of the day. Built from the beginning with commerce in mind, even the oldest of the town's edifices had been designed to provide protection from the twin suns. They looked primitive from the outside (and many were), yet oftentimes walls and arches of old stone masked durasteel double walls with circulating coolant flowing freely between.

My best friend was maneuvering his landspeeder through the town's outskirts, with me following close behind, when several stormtroopers materialized from nowhere and began to form a circle around him. My heart beat faster in response, and I almost wished Luke would gun the engine and race past the group of stormtroopers. Knowing Luke, he was probably panicking on the inside as well. Nonetheless, my best friend managed to remain outwardly calm, possibly with help from Ben, who was sitting in the front passenger seat. Nothing seemed to ever to faze that old man.

One of the stormtroopers raised a hand, dispelling any lingering hope that the Imperial troops were bent on business elsewhere. Luke pulled over, which drew curious glances from passersby. Mari whispered to me to park my landspeeder a discreet distance away so as to keep tabs on the unfolding event. It was obvious the stormtroopers were checking out the two droids seated behind Ben and Luke. I anxiously obeyed Mari's command.

"How long have you had these droids?" the stormtrooper who had held up his hand barked. Polite formalities were to be dispensed with, it appeared.

Looking blank for a second, Luke finally came up with "Three or four seasons, I guess."

"Both are up for sale, if you want them- and the price is right," Ben put in, giving a wonderful impression of a desert finagler out to cajole a few quick credits from ignorant Imperials.

The stormtrooper in charge didn't deign to reply. He was absorbed in a through examination of the landspeeder's underside.

"Did you arrive from the south?"

"No, no," Luke refuted almost too quickly, "we live in the west near Bestine."

"Bestine?" the stormtrooper repeated, walking around to study the landspeeder's front. Luke's only reaction was to stare straight ahead. At length, the armored figure concluded his search, moved to stand ominously close to Luke, and snapped, "Let me see your identification."

At this point, I knew the jig was up. Luke's formal identification, with the location of his homestead and the names of his nearest relatives, would belie the false story he'd just fed to the Imperials. Additionally, the ownership papers on 3PO and R2 had been burned up in the fire.

To my amazement, Ben leaned over and talked easily to the stormtrooper. "You don't need to see his identification," the old man informed the Imperial. Ben's face remained neutral despite his voice sounding peculiar.

Staring vacantly back at Ben, the commanding officer answered as if it were self-evident. "I don't need to see your identification." His response was the opposite of Ben's; his tone was normal but his expression strange.

"These aren't the droids you're looking for," Ben continued pleasantly.

"These aren't the droids we're looking for," the stormtrooper intoned robotically.

"He can go about his business."

"You can go about your business."

Apparent relief spread across Luke's face, although the Imperial oddly opted to ignore it. My best friend lurched the landspeeder forward and practically peeled around a nearby corner. The commanding officer started to argue with his subordinates, for they were angry he'd let such a promising lead slip away. With the Imperial thus occupied, Mari indicated now might be convenient moment to fall back behind Luke's landspeed unnoticed.

"What the hell did Ben do, some kind of mind control?" I demanded of Mari once we were safely out of earshot of the stormtroopers and within sight of Ben and Luke again.

"The Force is in the mind, Carithlee, and can sometimes be used to influence others. It's a powerful ally. As you come to know the Force, you'll discover it can also be a danger if abused."

My mind was too full of our narrow escape to concentrate much on Mari's explanation even though I'd been keenly interested in hearing from my cousin mere seconds ago. We were out of harm's way for the time being, but how long would it be before another opportunity designed to compromise us would present itself to us?


	7. Your Fellow Traveler

**The Awakening**

**Chapter 7: Your Fellow Traveler**

**Choose your fellow traveler before you start your journey.**

** Nigerian proverb**

We stood before the run-down yet popular cantina. Most of the good, independent freighter pilots frequented the place because they could talk as freely as anyone can in public without an eminent Imperial presence. Hence, it would be here that we would obtain our passage to Alderaan. Alas, we immediately ran into a stumbling block as we started to infiltrate the establishment.

"Hey, we don't serve their kind here," the bartender, an enormous, scruffy-looking human, growled, gesturing with a thick thumb toward R5, R2, and 3PO, who were trailing behind us silently. "They'll have to wait outside. I only carry stuff for organics, not," he concluded with an expression of distaste, "mechanicals."

The idea of allowing this ignorant bigot to kick out our droids incensed me to no end, but how else were we to handle the problem? The bartender didn't seem to be the type to readily respond to reason, and none of us were willing to ruin Ben's current negotiations with a human pilot in the corner by forcing the issue of droid rights. Moreover, the discussion had attracted the attention of several unsavory types who happened to be clustered within hearing range. All regarded us in a decidedly unfriendly fashion.

"I'll take them outside," Mari smoothly intervened. She flashed an apologetic smile to the bartender. "So sorry about that. We certainly didn't intend to cause any trouble."

"I heartily agree with you, Mistress Mari," reinforced the ever-nervous 3PO, though I could still detect the droid's resentment at being so summarily dismissed.

With R2 and R5 waddling in its wake, the tall robot hastily headed for the exit. That finished matters as far as the bartender was concerned. Nonetheless, he managed to reveal another disgusting facet of his personality as a sort of parting shot by checking out my cousin's ass during her departure out the door.

After Mari left Luke and me, our isolation increased dramatically. Every eye in the place seemed to rest briefly on us, that things human and otherwise were smirking and uttering derogatory comments about us behind our backs. We moved further through the heavy crowd into the deep interior of the cantina to get closer at Ben. All the while, we attempted to maintain an air of quiet self-possession rather than reveal our naïve astonishment at the variety of organisms making use of the bar.

The man Ben had been talking to suddenly walked away. Ben then promptly approached a towering anthropoid called a Wookiee. I'd heart of Wookiees, yet I never expected to see one, much less meet one. Despite an almost comical quasi-monkey face, the Wookiee could've easily struck fear into others. Only the large, glowing eyes mitigated its awesome appearance. The massive body was covered entirely with soft, russet fur. A pair of chromed bandoliers, which had lethal projectiles of a type unknown to me, was slung over of his back. Other than the bandoliers, the Wookiee wore little else.

In the course of the conversation, the old man had occasion to gesture in our direction. Once the Wookiee glanced directly at us, he let out a horrifyingly howling laugh. Disgruntled by the role Luke discerned we were evidently playing in the discussion, my best friend stopped our slow advance toward the pair and switched our end destination to be the bar. Sure, Luke might've been acting unfairly toward the creature, although I doubted the Wookiee's guffaw was meant in good-natured fellowship. Hell, the Wookiee probably enjoyed how the bar patrons near him near him eddied and swirled around his huge form without ever straying too close.

Suddenly, a hand clamped itself on my shoulder and spun me around to come face-to-face with a short, grubby-looking human. "Why, hello there, honey," he slurred way too loudly, even for the noisy chattering going on.

My nose caught a whiff of the foul odor that was his breath. The stranger had obviously imbibed enough alcohol to the point of heavily intoxicating himself. Instinctively, I tried to edge away from him. He counteracted my escape by snaking an arm around my waist.

"What's the rush, sweetheart? I thought we were getting better acquainted." He grinned, showing off two rows of yellow, crooked teeth, and I suppressed a grimace.

To successfully extract myself from this embarrassing situation, serious tact would need to be conjured up. "As tempted as I am by your offer, I really have to stay with my friend," I excused my, halting the drunk's free hand that was boldly drifting toward my breasts.

Blind rage flooded his eyes, a clear sign he hadn't anticipated my polite rejection of him. "You prudish bitch!" he snarled. "Who are you to refuse me?"

"Leave her alone!" Luke called harshly, stalking up to us. The anger and brotherly concern was deeply etched on his countenance.

"Oh, is this your 'friend'?" the man sneered at me. "Well, I'm sure that you can guess that I, too, have friends to help me out."

As if on cue, a thing – a cross between a capybara and a small baboon – bounced over to stand (or squat) next to the human, who dropped a companionable arm about the snuffling mass.

"Look-" Luke began.

"No, _you_ look," the stranger interrupted. "It's not a smart idea to mess with either of us. We're both wanted." He proudly pointed to himself. "I have the death sentence on me in at least twelve different systems."

"These two aren't worth the trouble," a calm voice reasoned. I glanced up, startled. I hadn't heard Ben Kenobi join Luke and me. "Come, let me buy you all something…"

By way of reply, the drunk swung out a fist toward Ben. The poor execution of the blow landed on an unprepared Luke instead of its intended target. My best friend was propelled backward and crashed through a nearby table, shattering a jug filled with a noxious-smelling liquid. I hurried to Luke's side and helped him up. The throngs backed away from us, a few grunts and warning snorts emitting from some of the bar's clientele as my harasser pulled a pistol out of his service pouch and waved it in Ben's direction.

"No blasters, no blasters! Not in my place!" the bartender frantically shouted, charging clumsily around the end of the bar. He stopped there, though, taking extreme care to stay out of firing range.

A fiery blue-white light appeared in the dimness of the cantina. The old man had ignited the lightsaber he kept at his side. Infuriated, the human and his alien chum leapt at the hermit. In the blink of an eye, tow events happened simultaneously: the man found himself lying prone against the bar, moaning and whimpering as he stared at the stump of an arm that had just held his pistol; and the stranger's sidekick had been cleft cleanly down the middle of its body, the two halves falling in opposite directions to the floor.

The suggestion of a sign escaped from Ben, and his body relaxed. Bringing the lightsaber down, he flipped it carefully upward in a reflex saluting motion, which ended with the deactivation weapon resting innocuously on his hip. Ben's gesture broke the total stillness of the room. Conversation resumed, as did the movement of bodies in chairs, the scraping of mugs and pitchers and other drinking devices on tabletops. The bartender and several assistants dragged the hideous alien corpse out of the sight while the mutilated human vanished wordlessly into the swarm of bar customers. To all appearances, the cantina had reverted to its former state, with one exception: Ben Kenobi was given a respectful amount of space at the bar.

Luke and I barely noticed Ben's renewed talk with the Wookiee in its own language. We were still shaken by the speed of the fight and the old man's unimagined abilities. As my mind cleared, I fumbled for anything to deliver me from my daze.

"You're hurt, Luke," I observed solicitously.

My best friend touched the bruise on his forehead where the man had struck him. "I…"

Ben whirled around abruptly and cut Luke off. "This is Chewbacca," he explained, indicating the Wookiee next to him. "Chewbacca is the first mate of a ship that might suit our needs. He'll take us to the ship's captain now."

& & &

In a rear booth, we encountered a sharp-featured, dark-haired young man perhaps five years older than Luke and me, perhaps a dozen; it was hard to tell. With his generic outfit consisting of a white shirt, black pants, ebony vest, and boots, he displayed the openness of the utterly confident or the insanely reckless. He dismissed the humanoid wench who had been wriggling on his lap with a whispered something that impressed a wide grin on her face.

Chewbacca rumbled a short statement to his friend, and the man nodded, acknowledging us newcomers with an amiable smile. "You're pretty handy with that lightsaber, old man. Not often does one see expert swordplay in this part of the galaxy anymore." He downed a prodigious portion of whatever filled his mug. "I'm Han Solo, captain of the _Millennium Falcon_. Chewie tells me you're looking for passage to the Alderaan system."

"That's right, son. If it's on a fast ship."

Oddly, Han didn't bristle at Ben pegging him with the "son" label like I'd assumed he would. Rather, Han's face only registered surprise at Ben's lack of knowledge on the _Millennium Falcon_.

"Fast ship? You mean you've never heard of the _Millennium Falcon_?"

"Should I have?" Ben inquired with faint amusement.

"The _Falcon_ mad the Kessel run in less than twelve standard timeparts!" Solo proclaimed. "I've outrun Imperial starships and Corellian cruisers. I think she's fast enough for you, old man."

Luke and I exchanged a look that confirmed what we were both wondering: was this guy for real, or was his bragging part of a routine designed to mislead us and charge us a much higher fee than he really deserved?

"What's your cargo anyway?" Han questioned in an obvious effort to learn our own motives for initiating this business transaction.

"Only passengers," supplied Ben. "Everyone you see before you here, plus three droids and a young lady somewhere else at the moment. No questions asked, of course."

"No questions asked," Han repeated slowly, studying his mug thoughtfully. He must've been weighing the risk of taking us on versus the profit he would earn in the end. "Is it local trouble?"

There was zero chance of the matter be as simple as staying restricted to Tatooine's borders, but Ben miraculously sidestepped this difficulty and remained wonderfully vague. "Let's just say we'd like to avoid any Imperial entanglements."

"These days, that can be a real trick. It'll cost you a little extra." I smile, cynically admiring the cunning Solo's skills at twisting our evasiveness to his advantage. "All in all, about 10,000 credits. In advance. And you'll get your 'no questioned asked' request."

"10,000!" Luke gasped in amazement. "We could almost buy own ship for that amount of money."

"Maybe, maybe not," our pilot conceded, shrugging. "In any case, could you fly your new ship?"

"You bet! I'm not such a bad pilot myself. I don't-"

My hand reached up and pulled Luke back into his seat. He glared sullenly at me for my interference. Nevertheless, he refrained from speaking further to defend his ego since Ben was addressing a more pressing issue. None of us had a whole lot of credits on hand, so the old man had to drive down the price to a rate that we could easily raise by selling the landspeeders.

"We don't have 10,000 with us. However, we could pay you 2,000 now along with 15,000 when we arrive at Alderaan," Ben offered.

Han Solo leaned forward, the greed shining in his eyes. He was at last fully exposed to be the type of person I'd suspected him to be all along: one that could be bought or sold like a painted whore.

"You actually have access to that much money?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I promise it from the government of Alderaan. At the very least, you'll have garnered an honest fee: 2,000."

"All right, I'll chance it. You have yourselves a pilot."

Warning bells went off in my head at Solo's apparent lack of critical thinking at Ben's dubious deal. It was possible Han had more to consider than merely increasing his personal wealth. Would he agree to such a dangerous charter because he owed someone money? Countless small-time pilots doubled as smugglers, and if the Empire was hot on their tail during a shipment run, they sometimes had to dump their freight in order to save their skins. They would then have to pay back their suppliers for the loss of the cargo.

"If you wish to continue avoiding Imperial entanglements, you'd better leave, or else even the _Falcon_ can't help you," Han abruptly warned. He nodded toward the entrance, which was admitting four Imperial stormtroopers, and added quickly, "Docking bay ninety-four, first thing in the morning."

& & &

While the Imperial troops were busy questioning the bartender, we slipped away unnoticed. Outside, the ever-watchful Mari had witnessed the Empire's descent on the cantina and was already devising a path by which to safely smuggle us away from the area. She swiftly implemented her plan upon descrying us coming out, breathing a sigh of relief at not having to fetch us from inside the bar itself. Along the way, we filled her in on the terms of the deal with Han Solo.

Our protective harbor from the Imperials was a place I least expected: my stepbrother Garrick's home. I wasn't aware of this fact until Mari ordered us to hide the landspeeders, paused before a door in some dark alley, and rapped on it briskly. The door slid open to show a very different looking stepbrother than the one I'd seen leaving for Mos Eisley seven years ago. This new Garrick I'd only gazed at through a hologram and not the real thing in person…at least until this moment.

Garrick's physique was even more musclebound (if that was possible) due to the heavy manual labor he performed at his mechanical job. He'd grown a full-fledged beard to complement his mid-length, tousled black hair, something quite the opposite of his crew cut, clean-shaven days of his adolescent youth. The deep, almost leathery, tan on my stepbrother's skin wasn't developed from his years on the moisture farm; instead, his lengthy time outdoors in Mos Eisely had toughened his skin, and the white clothing did nothing to hide that conspicuous feature of himself. Perhaps the most disturbing alteration of all occurred in his eyes: where they were once openly warm and inviting, they were now way more wary of his surroundings. Distrust must've been a state of mind to naturally progress to after living for a while in a crime-ridden slum like Mos Eisley.

Still, the instant Garrick spotted me, a glimmer of his old self kicked in, and he rushed forward, unabashedly scooping me up in his arms. "Carithlee! It's been far too long!" he burst out. The next second, he studied the rest of my companions, and his facial expression rapidly changed from joy to confused apprehension. "Maybe I shouldn't be so happy to see, Carithlee. What's going on here?"

"Princess Leia's mission has failed," Mari announced grimly. "She's been captured by the Empire."

My stepbrother appeared momentarily stunned, but he quickly moved to action by pushing us inside of his apartment and closing the door behind us. "I know the Princess traveled to Tatooine to meet with Ben Kenobi, so what do Luke and Carithlee have to do with her mission?" Garrick demanded fiercely.

It seemed only appropriate to let Ben take hold of the reins of the conversation. "The data Princess Leia had in her possession was transferred to this R2 unit," he started, pointed to the robot in question. "The droid was instructed to bring the information to me along with a message from Princess Leia urging me to deliver R2 to Bail Organa. Coincidentally, R2 and its companion 3PO were captured by Jawas and sold to Luke's family. The Empire wasn't long in tracking the two droids to the Lars' farm, resulting in Beru and Owen's deaths. Luke escaped alive because he was with me at the time they were killed."

Even the relatively stoic Ben wasn't wholly unaffected by the raw, uninhibited grief displayed by Garrick, who was too consumed with concern for Luke's well-being to inquire whether a similar situation accounted for my presence. "Luke, I'm very sorry about your loss," my stepbrother sympathized. "Owen and Beru were like second parents to me."

"Yes, you and Carithlee had much better luck than me," Luke responded ruefully. "Your family is still among the living, although Carithlee certainly paid a high price to ensure their safety."

Luke's meaningful glance my way compelled Garrick's bewildered gaze to rest on me as well. I felt quite sorry for my stepbrother. He would hear from me distressing news that by now had wearied me to the point of exhaustion. Nevertheless, I was grateful for another ally in my exile even as I lamented the mechanism by which we could have contact: Garrick's role as an undercover agent of the Rebellion. What had drove him to do such a thing?

Once I was done reporting my share of the story in these matters, Gariick loosely slung an arm around me as a sign of comfort. He stepped away a moment later, facing the rest of the party, asking, "Who did you hire to take you to Alderaan? Perhaps I know of the pilot and can tell you if you've been swindled."

"His name is Han Solo, the boastful captain of the _Millennium Falcon_," Ben furnished with a wry smile.

A droll grin of his own materialized on Garrick's face. "Oh, Solo is competent enough and so is his ship." He laughed boisterously. "To be honest, I'm not surprised Solo agreed to the job. Everyone in Mos Eisley knows he owes Jabba the Hutt some serious credits."

We all took this fresh bit of intelligence in stride. As long as Han effectively backed up his claims of flying well, we didn't care what his personal reasons were for accepting the task we given him. Just like he didn't care why the Empire was after us due to the handsome fee he expected for his troubles. The "don't' ask, don't tell" policy was the only way we could assent to such a crazy business arrangement anyway.

"How much will Solo be paid?" Garrick asked.

Mari named the costly sum along with the conditions of how Han would receive the money, and Garrick whistled loudly. My cousin shrugged, declaring breezily, "Coughing up 2,000 up front isn't what I'm worried about. Even the remaining 15,000 won't be an issue until later. Our real trouble at this juncture is obtaining a secure location to lay low at until we leave with Solo tomorrow morning."

"You came to the right place then," my stepbrother assented with a secretive smile. "I have space to spare for the night. Plus, I sell landspeeders on the side. Why don't you let me introduce to you suitable venders that can quickly take your landspeeders off your hands?"

For the first time in a long while, I fully relaxed. With Garrick in our corner, things should run a whole lot smoother.

Little did I know how wrong I would be.


	8. The Best of Friends

**The Awakening**

**Chapter Eight: The Best of Friends**

**The best of friends must part. **

** - Proverb of Unknown Origin**

Since last year's release of the XP-38 landspeeder, the older models Luke and I owned wasn't much in demand anymore. Still, we were able to clear a profit of 2,000 credits with a little left over for any extra expenditures. Of course, we easily achieved our goal with Ben and Mari using their Force-based mind control technique on the landspeeder dealer Garrick brought us to. It definitely wasn't a shining moment for the Jedi, but rules sometimes have to be bent for the purpose of survival, just like when Ben fooled the stormtroopers and then dealt with those two obnoxious idiots in the cantina.

Upon our return to Garrick's apartment after completing the landspeeder errand, my stepbrother took it upon himself to reveal how he'd joined the Rebellion. His tale was somewhat similar to Biggs'; outraged at the injustices of the Empire committed again its own subjects, Garrick was convinced he had to do something about it. The Rebellion was a good avenue to follow through with his convictions, he believed. From then on out, Garrick served as a point of contact in Mos Eisely for Rebels in the area. Mari met my stepbrother in this manner when she'd first arrived on Tatooine at the Mos Eisely spaceport. Garrick was rather surprised to learn Mari was related to me. Apparently, he hadn't known beforehand about this crucial fact, and yet Mari was already aware of Garrick's relationship to me, which only further deepened the mystery of my mother's enigmatic past.

Surmising we were famished, Garrick offered us an odd assortment of food he assembled from his pantry. We all ate to our heart's content. Next, he unfurled the small pile of pallets stacked in a corner and spread them about the cramped space of his living area. There weren't quite enough for our group of five. Garrick voluntarily surrendered his pallet to me and improvised a crude type of bed with a flowing cloak hanging on a peg. Sleep soon followed easily enough, at least for me.

When I was the last to wake up the next morning, I expected to be assailed with brisk instructions to promptly prepare for our departure to Han's ship. Instead, Mari's silent form filled my vision. She indicated her need to converse with me by touching my arm gently. Nearby, Ben, Luke, and Garrick were consuming last night's leftovers. 3P0, R5, and R2 were clustered in their own group, exchanging communications amongst themselves. Dread inundated me at the sight of no one, either human or robot, meeting my puzzled gaze besides Mari, who appeared as if she were deeply troubled about something.

The tidings on Mari's lips were indeed the cause of everyone's uneasy awkwardness. Early this morning, Mari had received a transmission from Vanden Willard, her superior, stating that the Empire had recently "suspended" the Imperial Senate for the "duration of the galactic emergency." To Mari and her fellow Rebels, such a bold move to eliminate the last bastion of democracy left over from the Old Republic (even if its power was nominal and severely limited) suggested the Empire was up to something truly devious. Thus, any Senators with Rebel sympathies were in potential danger.

Dashé Borreno, another first cousin of mine and one of the youngest of the Senators, had progressed a step further by actually joining the Rebellion and becoming a top leader in the organization. Currently, she was traveling to Cloud City on the planet Bespin to stay with her brother Airten under the guise of taking a short holiday. Willard required Mari's and my presence on Bespin, for they couldn't afford to lose another powerful agent to the Empire like they'd lost Leia. Unfortunately, this matter was entirely out of Mari's hands due to Willard determining that Ben and Luke were sufficient enough to deliver the droids to Alderaan by themselves. Meanwhile, an effort would be undertaken to rescue Leia.

At the idea of separating from Luke, I swallowed hard and kept back the tears threatening to spring forth. "When do we leave?" I questioned in a husky voice.

Mari reached into her service pouch and pulled out two tickets. "We need to keep an extremely low profile, so we're taking a regular commercial passenger ship. It departs today and pretty soon, too." She smiled at me dolefully. "You'd better say your good-bys now."

Before I knew what was happening, both Garrick and Luke stepped forward to simultaneously envelop me in their arms in a big group hug. "It was good to meet up with you again, even under the present circumstances," my stepbrother whispered into my ear "I hope you're in a position one day to notify our family what you've been up to."

As Garrick extracted himself from me, my face soured at the possibility of disclosing to my parents the secret of who my new compatriots were affiliated with. My stepbrother laughed good-naturedly at my reaction. Despite my initial reluctance to eventually contact my loved ones and account for my movements, though, a pang of guilt subsequently rushed through me. Things weren't supposed to be this way for my inevitable exodus from Tatooine.

Luke squeezed my hand warmly, insisting fiercely, "Let's not use the word 'good-by.' It's far too final. Besides, this separation is only temporary. I know we'll be together again real soon, Carithlee!"

Although I was inclined to be much optimistic than Luke, I nonetheless agreed with my best friend's assumption for the sake of preserving the integrity of the moment. As for Ben, he merely smiled and intoned mysteriously, "May the Force be with you, Carithlee." I returned the old man's gracious sentiments, and with that, Mari, R5, and I parted ways from the rest of our comrades.

& & &

Dawn broke on the gaseous planet Bespin. The passenger ship Mari and I were on soared past several of Bespin's many moons. The planet itself glowed with the same soft pink hue of sunrise that tinted the hull of our ship. Once we cleared a billowing canyon of clouds swirling around the planet, I could clearly take in Cloud City through the window. The city was immense and seemed to float in the clouds as it emerged in the white atmosphere. The expansive city structure was supported from below by a thin unipod. The base of this unipod was a large round reactor.

When we landed, a bulky, light-haired young man in his early thirties was waiting for us. He wasn't an unusual sight among the diverse cross-section of Cloud City citizenry, yet I was struck by his apparent sense of pride in his self-worth. I apply the word "pride" because his attitude wasn't accompanied by that overbearing vanity emotion we call arrogance. A clue to the source of his pride was brought to light upon Mari introducing me to the young man: he was Airten Borreno, a law enforcement officer of Cloud City. However, he was in civilian dress, not his uniform, since he was off-duty.

"Nice to meet you at last, Carithlee," Airten replied in response to my receptive smile and firm handshake. "I knew your mother when I was child, as did my sister." His already upbeat face brightened even more. "Speaking of which, Dashé is anxiously waiting for the two of you at my place. Let's go to her."

Our group crossed the narrow bridge joining the landing area to the city. Its beauty instantly dazzled me. Numerous small plazas ringed smooth-edged towers and spires and buildings. The structures that constituted Cloud City's business and residential sections gleamed white and shone brilliantly in the morning sun. Many Cloud City citizens strolled leisurely through the spacious streets alongside us. Above us, sky cars zipped about quickly on their way to their destinations.

During our flight to Bespin, Mari related to me basic information about what Cloud City was like. Its main industry is the mining and exporting of Tibanna Gas. The city also serves as a merchant outpost and recreational center. Therefore, though off the main space lanes, many come from far and wide to enjoy its casinos, restaurants, and shopping plazas, which, at the time of my first trip to Cloud City, were unhampered by a major Imperial presence.

Airten led us the circular lounge that was the focal point of his apartment. The room was white and furnished simply with a couch, a pair of chairs, a table, and little of anything else. Each of the four doors on the lounge's walls was an entrance to other parts of the apartment: a well-equipped kitchen and bathroom along with two handsomely furnished bedrooms. Obviously, the opulence and splendor of Airten's roomy abode stood in stark contrast to my stepbrother's own tiny, poverty-stricken home. No wonder Airten took pride in his job; being a law enforcement officer in Cloud City had rewarded him extremely well.

Dashé Borreno, also in her early thirties, was absentmindedly studying the bustling city through a huge window as we entered the lounge. She picked herself up and glided across the room with an air of stately grace to be expected in an Imperial Senator. Nonetheless, this was my only hint that suggested Dashé was involved in the political life of our galaxy. Her tall, slim form was clothed in a plain blue dress, and her light brown hair was plaited into a long braid down her back. She could've passed for a run-of-the-mill Cloud City merchant. Of course, considering Dashé's desire to blend into her surroundings and remain inconspicuous, I wasn't greatly surprised by her choice of dress.

"Mari, thank you for arriving on such short notice," Dashé generously praised.

"I'm always honored to serve you, Dashé, in all your hours of need," Mari answered in a carefully modulated voice. It occurred to me that Mari must've been required to show a special deference to those higher in rank than she, even family members. At least they were on a first name basis.

"Carithlee, I, too, thank you, for accompanying Mari. These are dark times indeed, and Airten and I have already heard our own tale of woes. We will have much to discuss in the future. For now, though, we must attend to the main problem at hand: the information Leia stored in that R2 unit's memory banks."

"Please, sit down and make yourselves comfortable," Airten urged Mari and me, pushing us lightly toward the couch. The two of us followed his recommendation while R5 settled itself into a nearby corner. Airten and Dashé joined Mari and me on the two chairs opposite the couch.

"What exactly is so valuable about the data R2 has?" I asked of Dashé.

The former Imperial Senator meticulously appraised Mari. "Good, you haven't told Carithlee. It was better she not know anything anyway until absolutely necessary."

Airten voiced his agreement with his sister's declaration, and all the time, a huge sense of dread welled up inside me. I knew I was in on a secret that I had up until now been mercifully spared from being made privy to the specific details. After this little chat with Dashé, though, the Empire really would have an actual reason to capture and torture me, possibly even kill me.

Vaguely, I wondered how Luke would find out what was going to be disclosed to me in a moment. "Does Ben know?" I inquired.

"No," Mari refuted with a kind of bleak regret. "Even he couldn't know. You, on the other hand, will participate in a series of events over the next few days that require you to know the secret."

Surveying the four of us grouped around her, Dashé at last fixed her eyes on me. "Besides Leia, Bail Organa, Vanden Willard, and the brave Rebel agents who gave their lives delivering the goods to the Princess, those of us in this room are the only ones within the Rebellion that know we've obtained blueprints to the Empire's new secret weapon: a planet-sized space station called the _Death Star_. It's capable of destroying whole worlds." Before my mixed-up, jumbled brain could process Dashé's shocking revelation, she added grimly, "Should Leia not survive her captivity ordeal with the Empire, I have to take her place in leading the Rebel attack on the _Death Star_."

& & &

The ensuing two days truly passed like a blue. At night, I shared the guest bedroom with Dashé. Mari guarded the outside of our sleeping quarters from her station on the couch. Airten traded places with Mari at dawn as soon as he finished his graveyard shift at his job. Somehow, between their round-the-clock sentry shifts, they snatched enough moments to get what sleep they needed.

Restful slumber was scarce to me. I was much too nerve-wracked about the near future and the part I was to play in it. Basically, we were in limbo, waiting for an urgent message from Vanden Willard that would reveal whether Leia was dead or alive. Whatever the Princess' fate, our next move would be the same: to travel to a hidden base on the fourth moon of the planet Yavin. Rebels never kept a base inhabited for longer than a stretch of time deemed safe from discovery by the Empire. Nevertheless, because of its high amount of fighter ships and supplies, Leia and Dashé figured Yavin 4 would be an excellent candidate for launching the Rebel offensive again the _Death Star_. There, we'd convince everyone to study the blueprints and ferret out a flaw in the space station to exploit to our advantage. Not that we'd have much trouble accomplishing this feat, for Vanden Willard was in charge of the Yavin 4 base.

Meanwhile, my worry for Ben and Luke swelled to the point of needing relief in the form of finding out they were safe and well or else I feared I'd burst into a mad display of hysterics. Honestly, I was still quite angry with Mari for withholding important information from Luke and Ben, although I could certainly understand her reasoning. If the Empire captured them, they'd be ignorant of the ultimate purpose for the blueprints and where this plan was to be enacted. Thus, the greater good of the Rebellion wouldn't be sacrificed.

My Jedi training also began during the two-day wait, so Dashé remained with her brother throughout my sessions with Mari. Mari used a silvery globe about the size of a human's fist. It was covered with fine antennae, some as delicate as those of a moth. I had to wear a helmet with the blinders down and deflect with my lightsaber pencil-thin rays of red light jumping from the globe's antennae. The design behind this exercise was to teach me trust in the Force I had to divorce my actions from conscious control, to not focus on anything concrete, visually or mentally. Sometimes, I succeed at my goal; my mind drifted into a state where I acted on what I sensed and could command my body on when to neatly ricochet the beams off my lightsaber. Other times, the globe's rays jolted through me like a bold of lightning when I failed to concentrate properly.

At one point, Mari commended me on my progress, the first real bit of glorification after hours upon hours of firm yet gentle correction and instruction. "Still," she mused thoughtfully, "you would've ideally started your Jedi training much sooner than your current age of nineteen. The molding of the Force talent, which is a lifelong process, needs to commence as soon as possible following birth."

"Birth!" I gasped in surprise. "Was this true in your case?"

"Yes," Mari affirmed, somewhat amused by reaction. "I was born while the Old Republic still existed. At that time, many planets, including Naboo, the place of my infancy, required midi-chlorian testing for all newborn organisms. If any of their midi-chlorian levels were particularly high, they were sent to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant for training. The reason why midi-chlorians were the determining factor in selecting Jedi trainees is because they're the microscopic life-forms that reside within living cells and specifically communicated with the Force."

Mari's short speech fascinated me and compelled me to appreciate all the more her efforts to train me. "Can't you still test for midi-chlorians?" I asked.

"No, the Empire destroyed that kind of technology as well as the Jedi Temple. One has to rely on intuition now." Her face shifted into a stony coldness that unnerved me a little. "At any rate, it's far too dangerous to train anyone who shows an aptitude for the Force like in the past. Only those who can't be easily corrupted by the Empire or use the Force for their own selfish, petty purposes should learn the Jedi arts."

Not the first time, I once again detected in Mari the strong streak of aloneness that must've been ingrained into her from a young age. Mari herself never digged too deeply into her past, but Dashé did discuss with me general family history that dropped some clues my way. Like Mari, both Airten and Dashé were born on Naboo. In fact, my mother's whole family hailed from that planet. Mama's own generation was fairly large; she had a half-brother and half-sister from her mother's first marriage as well as three full-blooded sisters from her parents' union. Nandi, the eldest full-blooded sister, was Dashé and Airten's mother. Versé, the youngest full-blooded sister, was Mari's mother. As for Teckla and Rehtul Minnau, the half-siblings, and Alicka, the middle full-blooded sister, they had no families of their own.

Where was everyone these days? Sadly, Alicka and Versé were no longer alive even before the end of the Old Republic. Versé was killed in the line of duty as a bodyguard for a Naboo Senator right before the Clone Wars started. Alicka, a Jedi, died in the Clone Wars. Both of Mama's parents passed away in the years following the Clone Wars when they experienced failing health in their old age. Nandi and Teckla occupied themselved by serving the current Naboo queen. Interestingly, Rehtul turned out to be a sort of black sheep in the family. He inexplicably joined the Imperial Academy ensuing a long stint as a law clerk in Theed, the capital of Naboo. Because of his career with the Imperial military, no one could trust him with any secret. Rehtul couldn't even know Mari was still alive since it was assumed she'd died years ago with her fellow Jedi.

Suddenly, Dashé entered the guest bedroom where Mari and I were training, a solemn expression on her face. Airten was close on her heels. "I have just received the news we've been waiting for," Dashé announced to us, "along with a number of other unexpected developments that I think you should hear sitting down."


	9. A Strong Attack

**The Awakening **

**Chapter 9- A Strong Attack**

**_A strong attack is half the battle won._**

**_- Spanish proverb_**

Luke's wish came true; he was able to see me again. The site of our reunion was Yavin 4. The planet of Yavin itself wasn't a habitable world due to the gas giant's poisonous gas atmosphere, which was kicked about by cyclonic storms. Several of Yavin's numerous moons, however, were planet-sized themselves and of these, three could support life, including Yavin 4.

Yavin 4 shone like an emerald in Yavin's necklace of moons, rich with plant and animal life. Regardless of this fact, Yavin 4 wasn't listed among those worlds supporting sentient life colonies, for it was too far from settled regions of the galaxy. Perhaps its far distance, or a combination of causes still unknown had been responsible for the race that had once lived on Yavin 4, only to disappear quietly long before the first explorer set food on the tiny world. Little was known of them save that they left a number of impressive monuments.

One huge, beautiful stone temple amidst the lush, junglelike setting had been converted into the Rebellion's main Yavin 4 headquarters. None of them hesitated to modify the temple to suite their needs. The temple front, with its long, dark entrance, had been enlarged. Seemed metal replaced rock, and poured paneling did for chamber division in place of wood. Buried layers had been excavated into the rock below, layers which contained hangar upon hangar linked by powerful elevators.

Despite the presence of the hangars, our ship the _Coral Star_ to Yavin 4 proved too large and wide for them, as did Han Solo's _Millennium Falcon_. Both ships were parked in the jungle itself, and a landspeeder had to be ridden to the temple. My first impression of the _Falcon_ as Mari, Dashé, R5, and me landed next to it was how worn out and broken down it looked. The_ Star_, also a Corellian stock light freighter like the _Falcon_, appeared nowhere near that advanced state of disrepair.

The _Star_ had entered into Mari's possession when a good space pirate friend with Rebel leanings bequeathed it to her upon his untimely death. Since then, Mari preferred to use the _Star_ as little as possible because of her deeply ingrained nomadic Jedi lifestyle. Therefore, Airten maintained the _Star_ for Mari at Cloud City, and she was free to take it whenever she pleased. Such was how Mari, Dashé, R5, and me happened to have a way to fly to Yavin 4.

As mentioned before, the _Falcon_ was already there, bringing Luke, Leia, Han, Chewbacca, and the droids to Yavin 4, for Leia had been saved from her cell deep within the _Death Star_. Tragically, Ben had lost his life during the ordeal, but I shall reach that point soon enough and must start the story from the beginning: The Princess had been first taken aboard the _Death Star_ after Darth Vader himself had captured her upon her arrival to Tatooine. Darth Vader badly wanted the location of the Rebel base where the _Death Star_ blueprints were going, so naturally the _Death Star_ would be an excellent intimidator.

However, when the standard procedure of torture didn't work, Grand Moff Tarkin, the _Death Star's_ commander, threatened Leia with the destruction of her home planet Alderaan. Horrified, Leia desperately tried to improvise by giving an old abandoned Rebel base on Dantooine as the blueprints' destination. Though Tarkin and Darth Vader cautiously believed her ruse, Tarkin still allowed the _Death Star_ to blow away Alderaan and then ordered Leia's execution.

Han and company immediately arrived following the devastation of Alderaan. All that remained were large chunks of rock scattering throughout space. While Han dodged what was presumed to be an asteroid belt that'd mysteriously appeared where Alderaan should've been, they encountered the _Death Star_. The _Falcon_ was dragged aboard the _Death Star_ by a powerful tractor beam. Everyone crowded into the _Falcon's_ hidden smuggling compartments, thereby avoiding immediate Imperial apprehension by misleading the initial search party into thinking all on board the _Falcon_ had already abandoned ship.

A more thorough search of the _Falcon_ was ordered, and Han, Luke, and Chewbacca halted this scanning team's progress with a well-timed ambush. Their success was repeated twice as the trio knocked out and tied up the two stormtroopers guarding the entryway to the _Falcon_ and the small cluster of gantry officers in the command office of the hangar. Ben then struck out on his own so that he could turn off the tractor beam and thus allow the _Falcon_ to escape. The remainder of the party awaited Ben's return in the command office with Han and Luke securely outfitted in the unconscious stormtroopers' uniforms.

R2, who was connected to the _Death Star's_ main computer system for purposes of locating the tractor beam and monitoring the Empire's movements within the _Death Star_, informed the group via 3PO that Leia was imprisoned on the space station and scheduled to be terminated. My terrified best friend convinced a cynical Han and Chewbacca to assist him in rescuing the Princess by appealing to their greedy side and promising a huge reward would be paid for her safe restoration to the Rebels.

What followed was a long and convoluted rescue attempt with the Empire hot on the heels of Leia and her three saviors and even the two droids that had been left behind. Eventually, all would break free from the Death Star thanks to Ben's efforts, yet he didn't live to enjoy the fruits of his handiwork; the old man died in a lightsaber duel with Darth Vader right before Luke's eyes as everyone fled to the _Falcon_ in order to take advantage of the short window in which the tractor beam was down.

I really felt bad for Luke and the loss of his mentor. In fact, a kind of deep-seated guilt lingered in me on account of the fact that I still had Mari. Luckily, my cousin swiftly took the despondent young man under her wing and offered to do anything within her power to help ease his pain. He smiled at her gratefully, accepting her proposition, and I secretly hoped this would be the beginning of Luke's healing process. Of course, Mari could never replace Ben, though I was sure there was potential for a mutually beneficial partnership between Luke and Mari.

Almost instantly, Dashé disappeared into the central briefing room with Leia, Willard, and the other Rebel leaders present at Yavin 4. They were studying the _Death Star_ blueprints and deciding what course of action to adopt. Whatever their strategy, it had to be enacted quickly, for the Empire had planted a tracking device on the _Falcon_ in a last ditch effort to uncover the whereabouts of the blueprints. Now the _Death Star_ was on its way to blast Yavin 4 into oblivion.

"I believe there'll be a meeting for everyone once an attack plan has been formulated," Luke predicted. He smiled grimly, adding, "I'll be one of the pilots going up close and personal against the _Death Star_."

Luke's news inspired screaming alarm to stampede through my already growing uneasiness about the whole situation in general. "You've never flown in combat before. How did you receive approval to participate in this campaign without any experience?"

Annoyance invaded my best friend's haggard face, a sign he wasn't very inclined to put up with any criticism on my part that would deter him from seeking distinction on the battlefield. "The Rebellion needs every pilot it can get. Besides, there's not much difference control-wise between the X-wing I'll be flying and the skyhoppers we used to fly back on Tatooine."

"Will Han Solo be joining you?" Mari inquired, observing the rugged captain and his Wookiee first mate strolling by in the distance.

A mixture of bitterness and downheartedness soured Luke's features. "No, Han is grabbing his reward for saving the Princess and running away with it to pay off that debt he owes to Jabba the Hutt."

Quickly, I suppressed the urge to utter, "I knew it!" Han's kind was all too predictable, but my best friend, with his apparent, inexplicable affection for Solo, didn't need to hear this conclusion.

Hope wasn't something Luke easily gave up on, though. "Can I count on the two of you to fly with me?" he asked tentatively.

"Of course!" Mari assured him, smiling. "You know it'd easy enough for me. I already have my own ship."

After Mari's affirmative reply, Luke's eyes rotated toward me expectantly. Much as I dreaded the overwhelmingly inevitable ending to this whole crazy Death Star business, I knew I'd be a coward for not taking up the Rebels' cause. For better or for worse, they were my comrades now. They'd shielded and protected me from the Empire. It was more than time I repaid my debt. Slowly, I shook my head "yes" and requested directions to the flight simulation test room.

& & &

I passed the flight simulation test well enough, considering I had an entire Imperial starfleet pitted against me. Not that I blamed the test administrator for his approach. Ruthlessness was the name of the game in this type of situation. Those who couldn't compete in the ultimate fight looming ahead and needed to be cut out of the initial races.

However, predictability was thrown right out of the equation the moment I departed from the flight simulation test room. Someone bumped into me from behind – rather roughly, I might add. Vexation swiftly melted away to joy as I stepped back enough difference to realize my assailant was Biggs Darklighter! He stared at me with equal amazement before he recovered, dashed toward me, and wrapped his arms tightly about me.

"Carithlee, Carithlee, Carithlee!" Biggs fervently chanted. "I can't believe it's you!"

Just the sensation of Biggs' touch upon my body propelled my mind into overdrive. His physical presence at this life-or-death juncture of my life was something I hadn't dared to hope for. Having only Luke, Mari, and Dashé was what I had to be content with. Thankfully, the gods had worked a miracle and delivered Biggs to me…and to his death with me like some tragedy right out of a holodrama.

Finally, my self-consciousness about being in such a personal embrace with Biggs out in the open caused me to suggest, "Biggs, let's find somewhere less compromising to talk."

He nodded in agreement, blushing a little as he let loose his grip on my torso and led me by the hand to his quarters. There, my boyfriend related to me how he'd come to Yavin 4. It turned out that not only was Biggs planning on jumping ship after taking up his post as first mate on the _Rand Ecliptic_, the captain on board was part of a plot to hand over the _Ecliptic_ and its cargo of ore over to the Rebellion. Overall, Biggs' mutiny was successful, yet he could never reflect on the episode with total satisfaction; the rest of the _Ecliptic's_ crew were executed; the Rebels had too few precious resources to keep prisoners unless the particular situation justified the action.

Next, I recounted my story, not sugarcoating a single detail. When I was done, I realized Biggs' eyes were reflecting back at me the quiet, desperate sorrow that his own story had instigated in me only moments before. How much heartache we'd already experienced! We were sure to endure much more with the nearing of the battle to destroy the Death Star. Would we even survive the ordeal?

Still gazing intently at Biggs, I knew we needed to take advantage of the fact that we were alive and together with each other. Impulsively, I tossed my arms about Biggs and squeezed him closely to me. My boyfriend commenced stroking my back. I didn't mind the contact at all, and in fact, I took it as my cue to crush my lips against Biggs'. He was surprised at my boldness, resulting in his body leaning away from mine as if he were half-attempting an escape.

"Carithlee," Biggs gasped, his voice strained with passion, "we're conveniently alone in a bedroom. Please don't start something we can't finish."

"I know, and it's okay. I want to be with you in that way," I consented. "After all, we have to snatch bits of happiness where we can in this life, and for all we know, this life could be over very soon."

Biggs' face amalgamated into a mask of cynicism and idealism that's commonly present in adults who know life isn't anything like what we expected it to be but still wish it were that way anyway. "What a way for me to lose my virginity!" he exclaimed disbelievingly.

"You're a virgin?" I echoed. Somehow, I found amusement in the irony of a man freely admitting to a potential partner that he was "pure."

My boyfriend shrugged casually enough, though his features were quite red. "Aren't you a virgin?" he suddenly retorted.

"Yes" was my hushed reply after a short silence. Damn, he'd gotten me there. Oh, well, it wasn't like this was the end of the galaxy. In a way, the fact that we'd both "saved" ourselves for the "right" person was a little touching. Still, our shared virginity only meant sex would be far more awkward than usual for a couple's first time.

We could feel the tension in the room increasing with each passing second. Nervously, Biggs broke the stillness by demanding, "Surely you're not as shallow as all that, wanting someone with more experience?"

"No," I refuted, smiling broadly. "I want intimacy, not a better roll in the hay."

With that, I pushed him down with me onto the bed. We locked into an embrace that no one could've broken us from.

& & &

The central briefing room had a long, low ceiling. A raised dais and huge electronic display dominated one half of the room. Pilots, navigators, and a sprinkling of droids filled the seats occupying the other half. I was in the very back with Biggs, watching the Princess talking somberly with Willard up front. Dashé stood off to the side, speaking with a tall, dignified gentleman about the same age as the middle-aged Willard. Biggs informed me that this stranger was an associate of Willard's, Jan Dodonna. He was the mastermind who'd come up with the attack plan that was going to be presented in a moment.

When Jan Dodonna moved to place himself on the dais beside the screen, everyone turned their attention to him. The room was much too crowded for me to find Luke, Mari, or R5. Nonetheless, I spotted Han Solo and Chewbacca standing across from me. Both appeared uneasy as hell, and I wondered why they were subjecting themselves to this meeting if it was possible for them to leave already. Or perhaps Leia was shrewd enough to require the two adventurers to wait until she was fully prepared for battle before she would bestow their ransom upon them.

As soon as an expectant silence had gripped the crowd, Dodonna adjusted the tiny mike on his chest and indicated the small group seated close to him. "You all know these people," he intoned with quiet power. "They're the Senators and Generals whose worlds have given us support, whether open or covert." He let his gaze touch many in the crowd, and none who were so favored remained untouched. "The Imperial battle station known as the _Death Star_ is approaching from the far side of Yavin and its sun. That gives us a little extra time, but it must be stopped once and for all before it can reach this moon, before it can bring its weaponry to bear on us as it did on Alderaan."

A murmur ran through the throngs at the mention of a world so callously obliterated.

"The station," Dodonna went on, "is shielded and mounts more firepower than half the Imperial fleet. However, its defenses were designed to fend off large-scale, capital ship assaults. A small, one-or-two-man fighter should be able to slip through."

One slim, supple man rose, and Dodonna acknowledged his presence. "What is it, Red Leader?"

Red Leader gestured toward the display screen, which showed a computer portrait of the battle station. "Pardon me for asking, but what good are snub fighters again _that_?"

"Well, the Empire doesn't think a fighter is a threat to anything except another small ship, like a TIE fighter, or they would've provided tighter screens. They're convinced their defensive weaponry can deflect any light attacks." Dodonna used a remote control to rapidly click to close-ups of shots relevant to the plan that he was now explaining. "An analysis of the blueprints provided by Princess Leia has revealed what we believe is a weakness in the station's design. A big ship couldn't get near it, yet an X- or Y- wing might.

"The weakness is a small thermal exhaust port. Its size belies its importance, as it appears to be an unshielded shaft that runs directly into the main reactor system powering the station. Since this serves as an emergency outlet for waste heat in the event of reactor overproduction, particle shielding would eliminate its usefulness. A direct hit would initiate a chain reaction that would destroy the station."

Mutterings of disbelief surged through the room. The more experienced the pilot, the greater his expressed incredulity.

"I didn't say your approach would be easy," Dodonna admonished them. "You must maneuver straight in down the shaft leading to the thermal exhaust port, level off, and skim the surface to this point." He traced the path for us on the screen. "The target is only two meters across. It'll take a precise hit as exactly ninety degrees to reach the reactor systemization. As I mentioned before, the port isn't particle-shielded, though it's completely ray-shielded. That means no energy beams. You'll have to use proton torpedoes."

A few of the pilots laughed humorlessly. Someone from the thick of the swarm declared loudly, "A two-meter target at maximum speed with a torpedo. That's impossible, even for the computer."

"It's not impossible!" protested a familiar voice. I easily recognized the speaker: Luke. "I used to bulls-eye womp rats in my T-16 back home. They're not much bigger than two meters."

Those around the pair of talkers quickly shushed them in order to allow Dodonna to continue. Luke's blond head, the only visible part of him, disappeared into the masses.

"Count on Luke to make himself known," Biggs commented, chuckling. I smiled, too.

"Take special note of the dangers in the trench you'll be entering," Dodonna plunged on ahead. "There's a heavy concentration of firepower on the latitudinal axes as well as several dense cirum-polar clusters. Also, their field generators will probably create a lot of distortion. I figure maneuverability will be less than point three." More whispers and a few groans emitted from the assembly. "Remember, you must achieve a direct hit. Yellow squadron will cover for Red on the first run. Green will cover blue on the second. Any questions?"

A muted buzzed filled the room. One man stood, lean and handsome - too much so, it seemed, to be ready to throw away his life for something as abstract as freedom.

"What if both runs fail? What happens after that?"

Jan Dodonna's face was grim. "There won't be any 'after that.' Anything else?"

Silence, pregnant with expectation, was his only reply. The time had come for action. I squeezed Biggs' hand tight, feeling the surge of fear grip me.

"Man your ships, and may the Force be with you," Dodonna instructed.

Like oil draining from a shallow pot, the seated ranks rose and flowed toward the exits to an unknown future.


	10. Weakness of an Enemy

**The Awakening**

**Chapter Ten: Weakness of an Enemy**

**The weakness of an enemy forms part of our own strength. **

**- Proverb of Unknown Origin**

"Let's check out how Luke's faring," Biggs suggested to me as we got off the elevator at the main hangar, where our fighters awaited us. Around us, bustling flight crews used the larger elevators to lift the fighters stored in lower level hangars onto the staging area in the main hangar. Each pilot would then perform a final checkout on his or her assigned fighter.

"Yes, let's find Luke," I agreed heartily. The need to connect with something familiar and dear in this foreign environment was great.

Amazingly, we swiftly spotted Luke through the crowd at a distance. He was just standing there, a pensive, disturbed expression twisting his features. Mari and Leia were with him. Their own faces were perfect reflections of Luke's grave mood as they spoke with him quietly.

"Wow, Luke's gotten pretty important for the Princess to personally visit him," my boyfriend observed, whistling long and low. "She must be really grateful to him for that rescue."

An unsettling notion buzzed about in my head. Our brief separation had had more repercussions than I'd previously believed. We were beginning to move in different, albeit similar, circles. It bothered me very much to consider the possibility that if we were to live past today, we could drift apart without even realizing what was happening.

"Is that Mari?" Biggs guessed, breaking my depressing train of thought. He was correctly pointing toward my cousin.

"Yes," I confirmed, tugging on his sleeve. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Mari, and we can wish Luke luck at the same time. See, we're killing two birds with one stone."

"Perhaps we'll even get acknowledged by the Princess," Biggs quipped.

As could be expected, Luke's spirits lifted considerably at our entrance onto the scene. He wasted no time in introducing Leia to Biggs and me. Underneath her formal public exterior, the Princess seemed quite friendly and sincere in a more casual capacity. "Any friend of Luke's is a friend of mine," she proclaimed to us. Still, knowing the large amount of people she encountered each and every day, I wondered if Leia would remember Biggs and me should we all survive and meet again.

Next, I introduced Mari to Biggs. My boyfriend showed impressive deference to her, for he'd never crossed paths with a Jedi before. Sure, Biggs'd known Ben, but Biggs was never aware of the old man's status as a Jedi until after Ben's death. Most of all, my boyfriend respected Mari for her role as an active member of the Rebellion.

"So, Carithlee, how did you unearth Biggs in this huge place?" Luke asked once introductions were over.

"We ran into each other right after my flight simulation test," I responded, my face turning a little pink. How should I explain the rest of our time together without revealing anything too personal?

Luckily, Biggs stepped in and saved the day. "Luke, I should apologize. Carithlee and I were so busy catching up on our affairs that we didn't have a chance to speak with you before that meeting on the _Death Star_."

"It's alright. I'm just grateful to be able to see you at all. Dashé Borreno, Carithlee's other cousin that's here, is far too busy at the moment to stop by, or else you and I would've met her, too." Luke smiled. "Dashé is a former Imperial Senator just like Leia. Of course, since you and Carithlee, had the opportunity to talk, you probably already know the whole story."

My boyfriend nodded, and the comlink on Leia's utility belt crackled with a request for the Princess' presence in some other part of the hangar. "Well, it looks like duty calls," she sighed. She moved her eyes carefully over Luke, Mari, Biggs, and me, favoring us with an appreciative expression. "I want to thank all of you in advance for your help in this extremely dangerous enterprise. May the Force be with you as you enter into battle."

"May the Force be with you, too, Your Highness," Mari intoned with her same tone of homage that she used on Dashé. We all repeated Mari's sentiment to the Princess, and with that, Leia hurried off to her destination.

Mari eyes Luke, Biggs, and me with an appraising look. "I need to head out, too," she remarked, nodding to the nearby landspeeder that would swiftly transport her to the _Coral Star_. To my surprise, Dashé sat inside at the driver's wheel! When my eyes made contact with Dashé's, she grinned and waved at me.

"What's going on?" I asked in confusion.

"Dashé's going to be running the canon guns for me while I fly the _Star_," Mari informed me with an ironic smile. Biggs, Luke, and I smiled back at her with equal irony, though the discovery should've come as no surprise to us, considering the unusual circumstances we'd found ourselves in. Mari then walked away, adding a friendly warning over her shoulder: "Don't take too long with your story-swapping."

"I wish we had that much time to spare," Luke lamented, but his face quickly lit up with anticipation. "We'll talk afterwards, all right?"

"Sure!" Biggs and I simultaneously agreed, our own hearts aching with inflated faith that we'd all make it back alive. After all, what else was there to comfort us?

Biggs headed toward a cluster of waiting fighters. I followed him, for my ship was parked in the same direction as my boyfriend's. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and whirled around.

"It's going to be just like old times, Luke," Biggs declared to our best friend, who was wistfully watching us leave. "We're a couple of shooting stars that can't be stopped!"

Luke and I laughed. We'd used to reassure ourselves with that cry when we piloted starships of sandhills and dead logs behind the flaking, pitted buildings of Anchorhead…years and years ago.

& & &

The sleek, venomous metal of my X-wing completely filled my vision. R5 was being snuggled into the droid socket behind the fighter cockpit, so I mounted the cockpit entry. Farther down the hangar, Biggs had already settled into his acceleration chair and was signaling to his ground crew. Luke, Biggs, and I were going to be in the same squadron: Blue. Mari and Dashé would be in Green squadron with Dashé serving as Green Leader.

Slipping into the cockpit seat, I studied the various controls amidst the steady, overpowering thunder of pilots activating their ships' engines. My confidence increased steadily as ground attendants started to wire me via cords and umbilicals into the ship. The X-wing instrumentation was necessarily simplified, and as Luke had indicated, much like our old skyhoppers.

When my ground crew had done their part, I commenced the final check of all controls. It abruptly occurred to me that I was no longer an individual functioning solely to satisfy my personal needs. Something now bound me to everyone in the hangar. Not that I could escape the rush of the togetherness anyway. All around me, scattered scenes of good-bye were taking place – some serious, some kidding, all with the true emotion of the moment masked by efficiency.

A voice crackled into my helmet, ordering me to begin my take-off. I touched a small lever, and the ship rolled forward, slowly but surely, toward the gaping mouth of the temple. The rest of the fighters joined me in the sky outward from the moon, out past the oceanic atmosphere of giant Yavin, out to meet our technologic executioner.

"Blue squadron, this is Blue Leader," my superior announced over the intership pickup. "Adjust your selectors and check in. Approaching target at one point three." A moment later, after warning Blue Two about being two far out of the formation, Blue Leader announced, "This is it. All ships, stand by to lock S-foils in attack mode."

One after another, us members of the Blue squadron gave the appropriate reply: "Standing by…"

The double wings of the X-wing fighters split apart like narrow seeds. Each fighter now displayed four wings, its wing-mounted armament and quadruple engines deployed for maximum firepower and maneuverability. Ahead, the _Death Star_ continued to grow. Surface features became visible as I recognized docking bays, broadcast antennae, and other man-made mountains and canyons. Something began to buffet my ship, almost as if I were back in my skyhopper, wrestling with the unpredictable winds of Tatooine. I experienced a bad moment of uncertainty until Blue Leader's calming voice reached my ears.

"We're passing through their outer shields. Hold tight. Lock down freeze-floating controls and switch your own deflectors on, double front."

The shaking continued, worsened. Not knowing how to compensate, I did exactly what I should: remained in control and followed orders. After that point, the turbulence was gone, and the deadly, cold peacefulness of space returned.

"That's it, we're through," Blue Leader proclaimed quietly. "Keep all channels silent until we're on top of them. They're not expecting much resistance."

Though half of the great station remained in shadow, we were now near enough to discern individual lights on its surface. In fact, the thousands of lights scattered across its curving expanse gave it the appearance of a floating city. Except for Luke, this was the first sighting of the Death Star for everyone else, and we didn't hesitate to verbally express our nervous amazement.

"Cut the chatter," Blue Leader ordered. "Accelerate to attack velocity."

Grim determination showed in my face as I flipped several switches above my head and began adjusting my computer target readout.

"Red Leader," Blue Leader called, "this is Blue Leader. We're in position. You can go right in. The exhaust shaft is farther to the north. We'll keep them busy here."

"We're starting for the target shaft now, Blue Leader. Stand by to take over if anything happens."

"Check, Red Leader. We're going to cross their equatorial axis and try to draw their main fire. May the Force be with you."

The four squadrons split into two main groups. Blue and Green squadrons dove directly to the bulge of the space station far below, while Red and Yellow squadrons curved down and north over the surface. It wasn't long before energy weapons, electric bolts, and explosive solids ripped out at Blue and Green squadrons. We crisscrossed back and forth across the station's surface, firing at whatever looked like a decent target. There were some close calls, but hardly any casualties occurred during this time.

Out of nowhere, a technician back at Yavin 4 reported on a fresh wrench that'd been thrown into the works: "Squad leaders! We've picked up a new set of signals from the other side of the station. Enemy fighters coming your way!"

Those damned TIE fighters appeared the instant the news was out. It was all we could do to protect ourselves from the Imperials, much less prevent the TIEs from attacking Yellow and Red squadrons, which were trying to execute the first run on the exhaust port. Soon, the death count for all four squadrons steadily rose at an alarming rate. Eventually, Red Leader, another with two wingmen, broke through to fire off proton torpedoes at the exhaust port. However, the proton torpedoes missed their mark, and TIEs immediately shot down Red Leader and his wingmen before they could try again. Subsequently, their demises signaled the end of the failed first assault. Blue and Green squadrons needed to join with the remnants of Yellow squadron and start the second assault.

"Blue squadron, this is Blue Leader. Rendezvous at mark six point one. All wings report in."

This time, only a few of us were still alive to proceed to the next phase of the attack: Biggs, Luke, Blue Two, Blue Ten, Blue Twelve, and me.

Dodonna himself came on the air: "Blue Leader, this is Base One. Double-check your own attack prior to commencement. Have your wingmen hold back and cover for you. Keep half your group out of range to make the next run."

"Copy, Base One," Blue Leader answered. "Blue Ten, Blue Twelve, join me." Two ships leveled off to flank Blue Leader. "Blue Five, take Blue Two and Blue Three with you. Hold up here out of their fire and wait for my signal to start your own run."

"Copy, Blue Leader," Luke acknowledged. "May the Force be with you. Biggs, Wedge, let's close it up."

Together, the three fighters assumed a tight formation above me as Blue Leader told me, "Blue Thirteen, you're the odd man out, so join Yellow and Green squadrons for defense."

"Copy, Blue Leader," I replied, extremely nervous to be away from Biggs and Luke for the first time. We'd constantly backed each other in all moments of danger.

Luckily, I swiftly caught a glimpse of the _Coral Star_ in the firefight below and headed toward Dashé and Mari. I made contact with them since Dashé was Green Leader and needed to be informed of Blue Leader's decision to send me to her. Dashé heartily welcomed my participation in the fray.

Meanwhile, Blue Leader's attempt at the exhaust port failed. He was the only one left alive after his two wingmen fell to TIE firepower and barely had the opportunity to institute his next command: "Blue Five, move into position. Start your attack run. Stay low and wait until you're right on top of the exhaust port. It's not going to be easy."

"Are you all right?" Luke inquired with deep concern at a TIE hot on Blue Leader's tail.

"Don't worry, I'll shake it."

Within a short period of time, though, the pursuing TIE fired off a shot that slammed into Blue Leader's X-wing and set one starboard engine ablaze. The gyrating fighter then plowed into the station's surface.

"We just lost Blue Leader," Luke murmured absently. I could hear the palatable helplessness in his voice. No one else dared speak in that awful, gloomy silence, not even the Yavin 4 base leaders. Amazingly, however, Luke somehow managed to muster enough energy to at last call out, "Close it up, Wedge. Biggs, where are you?"

"Coming in right behind you."

Soon after, Blue Two interjected with an update of his own. "Okay, Boss, we're in position."

From this instant on, Luke's date with destiny had begun. First, the three fighters tentatively skimmed the trench, searching intensely for the exhaust port as they dodged exploding bolts from surface guns. Unfortunately, three TIEs also materialized at the precise moment Luke finally found the exhaust port, causing his torpedoes to go wild and explode innocuously far to one side of the minute opening. In order to confuse the enemy, Luke and his wingmen fled the trench and raced off in three different directions. All three TIEs turned and followed Luke.

Luke darted between defensive towers and wove a tight path around docking bays, managing to lose two of the TIEs. Nonetheless, the single remaining TIE that stayed close behind him inflicted damage to one wing. R2 attempted to repair the sparking mess while my best friend eventually ditched the menacing TIE. Blue Two and Biggs had to evade TIEs as well, but the trio met up again and commenced their second run. Once more, energy bolts reached out for them, passing harmlessly to both sides. To complicate matters, the wing wound on Luke's X-wing opened up. Nevertheless, R2 successfully closed it up just in time for the second appearance of the same three TIEs Luke had eluded earlier.

Biggs and Blue Two crossed behind Luke, trying to draw the coming fire away from him and confuse their pursuers. One TIE ignored the maneuvers, continuing to gain inexorably on the Rebel ships. This TIE fired a shot that ripped into Biggs' fighter. A loud, desperate shout sounded over the speakers, blending into a final agonized scream of flesh and metal. Biggs' X-wing burst into a billion glowing splinters that rained down on the bottom of the trench.

"We lost Biggs," Blue Two announced.

My eyes began to water, and I wiped them away angrily, fighting to control my inner despair. The heavy Rebel casualties had already affected me deeply, but the death of one so close to me was almost unbearable. It took all the self-control in me to remain in the moment and focus on not getting myself killed. To this day, I have no idea how Luke, being much closer to the action than I, pulled himself together, especially for what happened next.

Luke flew just in front of Wedge, slightly to port side. Energy bolts from the pursing Imperials streaked close about them. Both men crossed each other's path repeatedly, once again striving to present as confusing a target as possible. Suddenly, Blue Two started fighting with his controls when several small flashes and sparks landed on his control panel. One small panel exploded, leaving molten slag behind.

"I've got a bad malfunction, Luke. I can't stay with you," Blue Two declared.

"Okay, Wedge, get clear."

Blue Two mumbled a heartfelt "sorry" and peeled up out of the trench.

"Carithlee, go to Luke and back him up," Dashé commanded me. She didn't have to tell me twice; I instantly piloted my ship toward the surface of the _Death Star_.

A near lethal explosion burst close behind Luke, clipping R2 where it rode on the damaged engine. "Damn, I've lost R2," Luke swore in frustration.

Unless I got lucky, I probably wouldn't be able to reach Luke in time to prevent one of the TIEs from catching the bobbling fighter with a crippling shot. However, help did come, albeit from a very unexpected source: Han Solo. The powerful _Millennium Falcon_ easily whipped past me, dove toward the trench, and used its far-reaching canon guns to take out one TIE. The two remaining TIEs narrowly avoided the _Falcon_ as it swept by overhead. Unfortunately for the TIEs, this aversion only caused their huge fins to get tangled up with each other, and a small explosion ensued from the contact. One ship completely erupted into flames as a result of the explosion before it collided with the trench walls. The other TIE, though damaged from the explosion, did not detonate like dynamite and instead began spinning helplessly into the endless reaches of space.

"Han, you came back!" Luke cried gleefully.

"You're all clear, kid," Han reassured Luke. "Now blow this thing up so we can go home."

This pep talk was followed by a reinforcing grunt, which could have only been produced by Chewbacca. I looked up through the canopy and smiled wryly, shaking my head in amazement, and pulling in beside the _Falcon_ so that I could also protectively shadow Luke.

Suddenly, one of the Yavin 4 leaders came on the intership pickup. "Base One to Blue Five, your targeting device is switched off. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," my best friend murmured, barely audible. "Nothing."

Puzzled and somewhat alarmed, I strained to stare down at Luke's X-wing at a distance below me. What the hell was Luke doing? He needed that targeting device to help him properly home on in that tiny shaft.

Before I or anyone else could react out loud, though, Luke released his torpedoes, perfectly hitting their mark. "You did it, Luke, you did it!" I shouted even as Han, Luke, and I frantically raced away from the trench back into open space.

"Good shot, kid," Solo complimented Luke, having to raise his voice to be heard over Chewbacca's unrestrained howling.

"Yes, you did a great job, Luke," Mari added, the knowing tone in her voice suggesting that she was fully aware of the reason why my best friend had just acted so strangely. Later on, Luke would tell me all about the moment he made history. At that juncture, however, I had no time to ponder anything as I joined several X-wings, Y-wings, and two freighters to accelerate away from the _Death Star_ toward Yavin 4.

Behind us, small flashes of light marked the receding space station. Without warning, it ignited into a brilliant conflagration, which was brighter than Yavin's far-off sun. For a few seconds, the eternal night of space turned into day. Space filled with countless microscopic metal fragments and propelled past our retreating ships with the power of the liberated energy from the station blow up. The collapsed residue would continue to consume itself for several more days, forming for a brief span of time the most impressive tomb in that corner of the cosmos.

& & &

A cheering, gleeful throng of technicians, mechanics, and other inhabitants of the Alliance headquarters swarmed around each fighter as it touched down and taxied into the temple hangar. A few of the other surviving pilots, including myself, had already vacated their ships and were waiting to greet Luke as he arrived.

Once Luke's X-wing landed, a far smaller and more restrained crowded formed on the opposite side of his fighter. It consisted of a couple of technicians and 3PO, who watched as the humans mounted the scorched ship and lifted a badly burned hulk from its back.

"Oh, my! R2? Can you hear me? Say something!" 3PO pleaded, bending close the carbonized robot. Its unwinking gaze turned to one of the techs. "You can repair R2, can't you?"

"We'll do our best." The tech 3PO had spoken to studied the vaporized metal, the dangling components. "That R2 unit has taken a terrible beating."

"You must repair R2! Sir, if any of my circuits or modules will help, I'll gladly donate them…"

3PO and the techs move slowly away, oblivious to the noise and excitement around them. I, too, was preoccupied like them, only for a much different cause: Biggs' death. R2 could be fixed with spare or dominated parts, but it was impossible for Biggs, once broken, to be put back together ever again.

A lithe figure, robes flowing, stepped up to me in a very unsenatorial fashion. "I'm very sorry about Biggs, Carithlee," Leia lamented solemnly.

I started at Leia's statement, although I still managed to compose myself enough to reply with heartfelt gratitude, "Thank you, Princess." Bitter tears stung my eyes. "Biggs truly gave his life for a great cause."

Leia placed a comforting hand on my arm. "Yes, he did, and so did the people of my world Alderaan and many of the pilots here that I personally know. However, I don't allow myself to give in to my despair. Despite everything I've lost, I still have lots of comrades with whom to share my quest for obtaining justice for this whole galaxy. You, too, are not alone either, Carithlee," Leia assured me, sweeping her free hand toward Luke.

My best friend was still the center of attention of the carnival atmosphere and had been joined by Han and Chewbacca. The three of them battled to discover who could compliment each other the most. When it came to congratulatory backslapping, though, Chewbacca won by default. There was laughter as the Wookiee looked embarrassed at having nearly flattened Luke in his eagerness to greet my best friend.

"I knew you'd come back, Han," Luke exclaimed passionately, "I just knew it! I would've been nothing but dust if you hadn't sailed in like that!"

Solo had lost none of his smug self-assurance. "Well, I couldn't very well let a flying farm boy go up against the _Death Star _alone. Besides, I was beginning to realize what could happen, and I felt terrible about it. I couldn't leave you to maybe take all the credit and get all the reward, Luke."

Han and Luke both laughed as a thunderous, authoritative voice called out, "Han Solo, do you _really_ wish to be personally associated with a Rebel victory?"

All eyes turned toward the figure that had just spoken: Dashé. She was making her way through the thick crowd, silently flanked by Mari, to stand expectantly before Han. Surprisingly, the Corellian didn't appear nearly as nervous as I would've thought he'd be at Dashé calling his bluff. In fact, the concerned glance Han threw Luke's way indicated his reluctance to let down my best friend. Nevertheless, I knew this instance wouldn't be the last in which Solo's immense pride would be tested against his heart of gold.

"Yes, Senator, I do wish to take credit for my part," Han calmly mouthed.

Dashé smiled with pleasure. "Then, you, along with Luke Skywalker and the Wookiee Chewbacca, shall be rewarded with metals at our celebration." Her attention swiftly switched to Leia. "Princess, you must present the metals to them. After all, this victory wouldn't have been possible without your brave sacrifices to get the plans we needed."

Leia's face colored a little, but she bowed deeply, very graciously accepted the commendations bestowed on her by Dashé, and expressed her great willingness to preside over the metal ceremony. As I listened to Leia, Luke's eyes locked onto mine. The intensity of his gaze very quickly attracted the Princess' attention.

"Go to him," Leia whispered when she finished her short public speech.

Unable to hold back any longer, I ran into Luke's arms. He hugged me as he spun me around, half-laughing, half-crying with me. How wonderful it felt to be reunited!

The instant Luke set me down, Han was standing before me to flippantly ask, "So, Carithlee, are you going to give me a second chance like Luke did?"

"Sure, why not, since you saved my ass, too," I responded with equal sassiness. In spite of all the impertinence shown to me, however, I could still discern Solo's sincere wish to win me over in his own way.

Following my exchange with Han, I acutely sensed for the first time the curious throngs watching me with probing eyes. Embarrassed, I suppressed the urge to turn away. Coincidentally, and to my eternal relief, Dashé took this opportunity to whisk us away in preparation of the celebration.

& & &

For the first time in thousands of years, the spacious throne room of the temple was filled to the rafters. Hundreds of Rebel troops and techs stood assembled on the old stone floor, gathered together for one last time before dispersing to new posts and distant homes. These massed ranks of pressed uniforms and polished semi-armor were truly arrayed together in a fitting show of Alliance might.

The banners of the many worlds supporting the Rebellion fluttered in the gentle breeze that had formed inside the chamber. At the far end of a long, open aisle stood a vision gowned in formal white, barred with chalcedony waves – Leia's signet of office. Several figures appeared at the opposite side of the aisle. One, massive and completely covered in fur, showed signs of running for cover, but was urged on by one of his companions. It took several minutes for Luke, Han, Chewie, and 3PO to cover the distance separating them from Leia.

They stopped before Leia, and I flashed an encouraging smile at them from my advantageous position next to Dashé and Mari among the dignitaries seated nearby. There was a pause, and a gleaming R2 joined the group, moving to stand beside a radiantly polished 3PO. Chewbacca shuffled nervously, giving every indication of wishing he were someplace else. Solo nudged his comrade again as the Princess stepped forward with the metals. Simultaneously, the banners tilted forward in union. All those gathered turned to face the dais. Leia placed a metal first around Solo's next, then Chewie's – having to strain to do so – and finally around Luke's. She made a signal to the masses, and the rigid discipline dissolved as every man, woman, and mechanical present was permitted to give full vent to their feelings. As for myself, I couldn't help rushing out again to give Luke the hug he deserved. This time, however, I wasn't mortified for displaying personal emotion in front of a crowd.


	11. Human Fortunes

**The Awakening** **Chapter Eleven: Human Fortunes**

**The winds of heaven change suddenly, as do human fortunes.**

**- Chinese proverb**

My prediction about Han came true quite quickly. He once again developed a sudden change of heart regarding his newly formed camaraderie with the Rebels. Not that I entirely blamed Solo. When matters were examined from his perspective, it seemed almost a shame to not use his handsome prize, which consisted of 20,000 credits and a stash of valuables. Thus, the best thing to do would be to pay off the debt he owed to Jabba the Hutt. That way, Han would be clearing his name and would even be free to resume his aloof distance from both the Empire and Rebellion.

The day following what was to become known as the Battle of Yavin, he shot down an Imperial cruiser that was searching for the now defunct _Death Star_. After indisputably proving his vastly superior prowess (much to the chagrin of Rebel leaders), Han quickly scooted off with Chewbacca to square things with Jabba. Ironically, Crimson Jack, a space pirate with ties to Jabba, immediately stole Han's reward. With the help of Luke, Leia, Mari, Dashé, and I, Han and his Wookiee first mate managed to defeat and kill the pirate.

Broke and fearing Jabba's retribution, Solo and Chewbacca miraculously found an ancient treasure hidden in one of Yavin 4's temples purely by chance. Han took part of the cache to a trusted contact that in turn delivered it to Jabba. However, Jabba kept the booty and refused to call off the bounty he'd put on Han's head. To my great surprise, Han used the rest of the money earned from selling off the remaining Yavin 4 temple plunder to purchase new X-wings for the Rebellion.

Meanwhile, about a month into the Rebel occupation of Yavin 4, a gnawing suspicion began to eat away at me. A Rebel doctor confirmed my worst fears with a simple blood test: I was pregnant by Biggs. As scared and anxious as I was, I knew it was far better to report the news sooner rather than later to everyone that cared about me. Besides, one of them might have a clearer idea of somewhere safe to retreat to since I couldn't very well stay at a Rebel base under constant threat of evacuation at the first sign of a sizable Imperial threat. In addition, returning home to Tatooine was also out of the question because I knew I could still possibly endanger my family with my presence.

Once the shock of my pregnancy announcement had subsided enough, Dashé swiftly suggested I take refuge on Naboo with her mother Nandi and aunt Teckla. They both lived together in a quiet, soothing private place in Theed, Naboo's capital city, perfect for an expecting woman. Plus, the pair had close connections to the Rebellion, so I would have the Alliance's continuing protection. Everyone else heartily voiced his or her accordance with this common sense plan. In fact, not one word of judgmental condemnation crossed their lips. They only congratulated me and wished me the best. Of course, the atmosphere was still a bit subdued due to the father of my child having been recently killed in a violent manner.

I was definitely grateful to all gathered for their understanding and caring even as a huge sense of loneliness seeped into my brain at the thought of being cut off from those dear to me. There was nothing I could do to change my fate. The moment I discovered I was pregnant, my life had forever been altered. I had to follow that new course to wherever it led me, even if it meant severing my ties again. Two big exceptions existed in defiance of my mixed emotions, though: Han and Chewbacca. Somehow, it didn't seem appropriate to involve them in this situation with Jabba's bounty hanging over their heads. Therefore, only Leia, Dashé, Luke, and Mari were made privy to my pregnancy at that gathering.

Within a few days, my meager belongings were packed in a small travel bag, indicating the arrival of my date to depart for Naboo. Mari would fly R5 and me there in the _Coral Star_. No one else would be accompanying me except my letter of introduction from Dashé, the first of many more superfluous formalities I was sure to encounter in a household heavily influenced by political traditions. At first blush, such a place seemed more like an institution rather than a comforting home as Dashé had suggested. Nevertheless, I knew Dashé was a woman of her word and could trust her judgment.

My goodbyes with Leia and Dashé were naturally difficult, but my farewell scene with Luke was especially hard to handle. "I'll visit you the first chance I get," he promised with a rueful smile. "Until then, don't let Biggs, Jr. forget about his uncle Luke."

Smiling back at my best friend, tears stinging my eyes, I instinctively touched my belly, though I was nowhere near to showing yet. "Don't worry, Biggs, Jr. will hear so much about you from me that he'll get sick of you before he even meets you," I joked huskily. I gave Luke one last impulsive hug before forcing myself to join Mari and R5 in the landspeeder that would take us to the _Star_.

& & &

An Outer Rim world like Tatooine, Naboo was the primary planet of the Naboo System and orbited by two small moons. Naboo was unusual in that it lacked a solid mantle and molten core. Instead, the planet was a ball of softer metals riddled with caverns and small tunnels. As a result, Naboo retained copious amounts of water, giving the surface a swampy environment that hid the true extent of the depths of its oceans could reach. The small sections of solid ground were marked by wide, rolling plains.

The only native inhabitants of Naboo were the Gungans, an aquatic, amphibious-looking race. However, the primitive Gungans had long ago been pushed into the deep recesses of the swamps by a group of technologically advanced human colonists. The descendents of these colonists called themselves the Naboo and learned to harness the plasma energy of the planet's core. Eventually, the Naboo founded their capital city of Theed. Theed was bounded and bisected by water, although it was located at the edge of an unusual tall steppeland. Over time, urban expansion split up the waterfall that originally fell over the edge of the steppeland into numerous waterfalls that surrounded the city. This abundance of waterfalls kept the air around Theed in constant motion and thus exhilarating fresh. Theed's architecture was a mixture of classical domes and ornate arches with wide thoroughfares that allowed all manner of traffic to reach Theed Palace.

I was admiring Theed's beauty from above as Mari touched the _Star _down in Theed's main hangar. Teckla and Nandi were already there waiting for us. The half-sisters were both in their fifties, yet the only signs that hinted at their true age were some slight wrinkles around their dark eyes and a touch of gray in their tied back brown hair. Their figures were still amazingly slim and supple under the flowing dresses they wore. My own mother, who was in her late forties, didn't look nearly as youthful as her older siblings. Once again, I was confronted with the stark contrasts of Mama's wealthy origins and her present self-imposed poverty.

Not surprisingly, Mari treated Teckla and Nandi the same as she did Dashé: with quiet, unpretentious esteem. The two aunts obviously returned the favor to their Jedi niece. Upon presenting my letter of introduction to the pair, I was also warmly welcomed to Naboo by Nandi and Teckla without any hint of stiff formality. I smiled, extremely grateful for their hospitality. Perhaps my difficult, awkward situation really wouldn't be quite as painful to experience with these two kindly women to lead the way. Little did I know how knowledgeable they truly were on this sticky subject of out-of-wedlock childbirth.

Following the introductions, Mari inclined her head toward the _Star _and declared somberly to her aunts, "Well, I must be on my way. I leave Carithlee in your very capable hands."

"It was good to see you again, Mari," Teckla answered with a doleful smile, "to know you're still alright."

Nandi's face suddenly spilled over with sorrowful bleakness. She placed a motherly hand on Mari's shoulder, softly requesting, "Please give Dashé my regards."

My cousin nodded, her face frozen in the perfectly calm, grave expression she normally wore. However, Mari's eyes exhibited an unusual display of emotion. That emotion was pain, and she clearly felt it for Nandi. It was also equally easy to comprehend the reasoning behind Mari's commiseration. Mari had already spent a good portion of her life as a fugitive living on the fringes of society. Now Dashé ended up sharing Mari's fate, leaving Nandi heartbroken and anxious about the uncertainty of her daughter Dashé's future.

An instant later, the pangs of agony melted away from Mari's eyes. To me, she directed this terse parting remark: "May the Force be with you, Carithlee."

With a spin of the heels, Mari turned to face her ship, strode toward it purposefully, and boarded it, not once glancing over at the small group she'd left behind. Similar masks of unreadable looks scattered across both Nandi and Teckla's faces while they silently watched the _Star _take off. To be honest, I felt a little embarrassed for having witnessed such a private moment between the trio, even if they were my so-called family.

The two sisters didn't allow their stillness to be drawn out for any longer than when the freighter had disappeared into a tiny point of light in the atmosphere. "Come, Carithlee, let us show you our home. It's only a short walk away," Teckla offered amiably, sweeping her hand toward the main pedestrian entrance, which was congested with plenty of foot traffic. Like Teckla, Nandi's face had reverted back to that familiar friendly expression I had been welcomed with earlier. Thus reassured, I followed my aunts, travel bag in hand.

& & &

My time with Nandi and Teckla had officially begun. For the most part, they let me be. Apart from the day of my arrival where they'd so dreary at Mari's parting, they delivered no less than what Dashé had promised helpful, kind assistance toward ensuring I had a healthy baby. Otherwise, they seemed to give me more than enough breathing room to reflect on my current situation. Such an action was both a blessing and curse. On the one hand, I could better select choices regarding my child when living in a supportive setting with a relatively composed mind. Conversely, this decision-making unleashed the embarrassment and regret I'd been holding back since my discovery of the pregnancy.

The origin of these two emotions emerging stemmed from realizing how obviously stupid Biggs and me were to not take proper precautions before having sex. At the time, I didn't believe we would survive the Battle of Yavin, so what did foresight matter? Of course, I had no good justification for not acting safe and smart, especially not one as lame as the above excuse. Nor did I look upon the consequences of our foolish action as some kind of punishment. Life is a precious commodity for all beings, no matter what they are or how they're conceived. As a result, the very least I could do was give the baby growing inside of me a fair chance at life. The process just would've been a whole lot easier if Biggs were present with me now to shoulder some of the responsibility.

Another topic of vital interest to me was my mother's past. Ever since I'd arrived on Naboo, curiosity raged in me at what were time here was like. In fact, I only knew my mother hailed from Naboo when Dashé told me so. Unfortunately, Dashé didn't reveal any further details, and neither did Nandi or Teckla. Although I could readily understand their hesitation due to the pain recounting old stories can dredge up, I was also upset at being kept in the dark on something that couldn't be nearly as dangerous as when I'd found out about the _Death Star_. Mari, too, was included in this equation of ire. Still, as much as I sensed Mari no doubt had all the answers to both my mother's life on Naboo and then her time with my father, Mari was a lot more reserved than our other relatives. It'd be a far easier feat to convince someone else to open up to me.

Thus preoccupied with the past, I watched the days swiftly blur and evaporate like moisture in the Tatooine atmosphere. Nevertheless, the present still persisted in intruding on my consciousness, thereby forcing me to reluctantly acknowledge its presence. This moment of compelled concession occurred almost following a full day of aimlessly attempting various pointless activities in a vain effort to keep myself busy during my aunts' long shifts at Theed Royal Palace. When Nandi and Teckla finally arrived home in the evening, the hired help (who did all the housework and left me to languish in idleness) served dinner to the three of us together. Ensuing this brief reunion, we broke apart again, the sisters to retire for the night, and I to enjoy the beauty of the summer night from the comfort of the main balcony of my aunts' spacious, shell-white villa.

Besides painting a panoramic view of Theed's graceful skyline, the balcony offered a more intimate view of beautiful Theed Palace, the ancient seat of Naboo's government. As much of an oxymoron as it sounds, Naboo's progressive-minded democratic political system revolves largely around elected monarchs, not representatives. Kylantha was the current queen in this long line of rulers when I lived on Naboo. Although Kylantha acted outwardly loyal to the Empire, she failed to implement any of the sweeping changes to government often associated with Imperial doctrine. Most significantly, Kylantha refused to dissolve the Naboo Royal Advisory Council, a governing body formed to assist the monarch of Naboo in day-to-day affairs. Many believed her actions, or lack thereof, nakedly revealed her support for the Alliance. Considering the large amount of Rebel agents and sympathizers I had come into contact with recently, I wouldn't be surprised if Queen Kylantha turned out to be yet another Rebel in disguise.

As I observed my nightly routine of staring grim-faced before a brightly illuminated Theed Palace, the present and its dismal prospects slapped me full in the countenance. My involvement with the Rebels had definitely been a factor in steering me to this disturbing and unsettling period of my life. How foolish and naïve I was to actually believe leaving Tatooine would be the easiest decision of my life. Nothing about my departure had developed the way I'd wanted it to be. Even if I had actually ended up joining the Imperial Academy, I most likely would've become disillusioned with the Empire just like Biggs. Then I would've had the additional sin of traitor on my hand I defected. Honestly, if I had to to choose between either the path of outright Rebel or turncoat Imperial, my nerves could handle the former much better than the latter.

One warm summer evening about two months after I'd reached Naboo, Nandi's slender figure hesitantly ventured onto the balcony where I sat in a chair, my hands resting on the slight bulge of my stomach. "Carithlee, may I join you?" she softly inquired, indicating with hand an empty chair next to me.

I nodded, and my aunt lowered herself onto the chair. Her body shifted uncomfortably, yet another physical sign she was feeling as awkward as I was. Neither Nandi nor Teckla had ever bothered to spend time with me on this balcony, much less anywhere else in this villa. Their lives seemed busy enough as it was simply tending to their demanding jobs and the ongoing matter of my prenatal care. Since I knew the two sisters were doing a huge favor by taking me in, I tried to stay out their way as much as possible so as to avoid becoming a burden.

Ensuing a brief silence where we both thoughtfully surveyed Theed Palace, Nandi fixed her eyes upon me, speaking in that same tone of profound sadness that I'd fleetingly caught a glimpse of my first day on Naboo. "I've passed by this balcony every night on my way to bed, and you're always here, gazing at the palace. For the longest time, I knew the palace reminded you of our family's association with Naboo's rulers, and the status that accompanies such a position which is something completely at odds with what you were led to believe about your mother." I nodded in the affirmative, waiting for Nandi to continue her startling perceptive speech. "It wasn't until tonight that I at last mustered up enough courage to hazard an amble out here. You see, you reminded me so much of another family member of ours that had been in a situation similar to your current one."

"Who do you mean?" I questioned with keen interest, all semblance of stiffness between us promptly vanished.

"Mari's mother Versé," Nandi furnished, her voice wistful and her expression full of unspoken remembrances. " Versé became pregnant at only the age of sixteen." The next moment, though, Nandi's tone became bitter and twisted with a palatable anger unbated over the years. "The good-for-nothing father abandoned her as soon as she told him of her condition, leaving Teckla and me to care for her and her child."

My aunt paused to examine me through much calmer eyes. I suppressed the urge to squirm under sudden and inexplicable close even as I instinctively sensed the reason for her evaluation: she was weighing her next words carefully.

"It's...eerie how much you were like Versé. While she was pregnant, she would quietly sit out here at night just like you. Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to talk to her since I had Dashé and Airten to raise." Nandi smiled ruefully. "Still, I knew Versé had a great attitude in spite of the numerous obstacles she had to overcome. After all, motherhood was the mutual state of being from which we'd gain our new purpose in life. We'd ceased to exist living for merely ourselves. Our children became the future, a future that we hoped included a life better than the the one we knew. You, too, will come to understand this realization even if you don't already now," Nandi concluded significantly.

Again, I nodded, preferring to refrain from as little conversation as possible on my part, afraid I would somehow break Nandi from the strange spell that remembering the past can conjure up. In spite of my concern, though, Nandi's face still held that distant appearance, compelling her to resume her narrative.

"As you already know, Carithlee, Versé's child Mari turned out to be Force-sensitive. Mari was sent to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant for training not long after birth. Versé wanted to see her daughter grow up, so much so that she accepted a position as a bodyguard for a Naboo Senator on Coruscant. For the first five years of Mari's life, Versé watched Mari from afar since the Jedi had strictly forbad any familial interference."

"Why would the Jedi do that?" I couldn't help blurting out, shocked by such a restriction. Even if I didn't always like my family at various transitory periods for various fleeting reasons, I couldn't imagine completely cutting them off from my life. Well, unless I was forced to abandon them due to dire circumstances, and this qualifier had indeed already happened.

Wanly, Nandi only offered a slight wisp of a smile. "The Jedi separated potential students from their families to minimize the chances of their being distracted from the training. In short, these future Jedi's minds can't be clouded with preconceived perceptions that would detract from the main expectation for Jedi: to be fair and impartial in all conduct."

"Well, I better understand the Jedi's position now that you explained everything," I slowly admitted, Mari's eternally somber face flashing through my mind.

"As a family where Force-sensitive individuals have abounded for countless generations, we just accepted the inevitable path of giving up all of those particular family members to the Jedi," Nandi further clarified. "In my lifetime, my sister Alicka and my niece Mari both joined the Jedi ranks. Versé, though, refused to let go of Mari and followed her daughter to Coruscant with that bodyguard post. Eventually, this job cost Versé most dearly: she lost her life in the line of duty when an assassination attempt was unleashed on the Senator she protected. Your mother then used her political connections to secure Mari a place at your father's side as his Padawan. Alicka already had an apprentice of her own, but even if she hadn't, the familial ties definitely precluded Alicka from serious consideration."

Any fool could easily detect the massive curiosity frozen in my features. Knowing Mama's headstrong personality, I could absolutely envision her wielding power in a political arena. I'd suspected as much since my initiation into this ancient and influential clan. Yet to have this possibility corroborated by someone who had at one time been close to Mama only heightened my sense of surprise.

Suddenly, a sharp pain originating in my lower abdomen section caused me to double over. To my horror, thick blood rapidly soaked my thin white dress. Acute cramping completely wiped out whatever remaining resolve I possessed, and I fell to my knees on the ground. The severity and abruptness of my symptoms keenly impressed upon me what they meant when headed as a set of related events: I was miscarrying. Not that it mattered if the dangerous indicators had had a more gradual onset. My shock and terror would've still been just as potent because I was losing my final link to Biggs either way.

Frantic, Nandi kneeled beside me and protectively wrapped her arms around me. "Carithlee!" she exclaimed. I was unresponsive, my low threshold for pain pulling me down into unconsciousness. As if from a distance, I heard my aunt yell for help.

With the last of my strength, I, too, called for assistance, only the cry was not spoken aloud. I was using my meager command of the Force to beg Luke to come to me at once.


	12. Friends and Dreams

**The Awakening**

**Chapter 12: Friends and Dreams**

**Return to old watering holes for more than water; friends and dreams are there to meet you.**  

**- African Proverb**

Some time later, my eyes snapped open, and I instantly sat up, at once remembering the traumatic incident leading up to to my black out. I was no longer on the balcony but lying on the bed in my room. Though it was small, the room's décor had been carefully decorated in a pastel scheme so as to give the illusion of being larger and more open than it really was. A cylindrical, multiarmed medical droid called the FX-7 stood next to my bed, bestowing a sick room atmosphere to an area of space that I once considered pleasant and inviting to spend time in. While the FX-7 sponged my feverish forehead, my hand flew to my stomach, which was flat again. Before I could fully process the terrible meaning behind the absence of an abdominal bulge, Luke's form emerged out of the corner of my eye, hugging me with profuse relief.

"Carithlee! You're awake!" Luke vociferated hoarsely.

"Luke, you came..." I heard myself utter aloud as more of an unconscious statement made quietly and flatly to myself instead of a deliberate exclamation meant to convey joy to Luke. Suddenly, grief overcame me as the realization hit me full force: I had lost my baby. I began to sob uncontrollably, and Luke's embrace tightened on me.

We didn't move from that pose for a long time.

& & &

With no purpose tying me to Naboo any longer, I decided to return to serving the Rebels. Nandi and Teckla, who were just as devastated as me at my loss, reluctantly accepted my resolution, but did not press the issue, a sign my aunts knew something on the development of the Rebellion that they didn't want me to find out about. Instead, they strongly pushed for me to stay a couple of days more in order to ensure my speedy recovery. Luke, too, didn't hesitate to voice his endorsement of the suggestion to linger on Naboo, though he also was strangely silent on whether or not he supported my plans for once I got physically well.

Thanks to my trying ordeal, I was exhausted and thus didn't have to be persuaded to remain in bed in bed a while longer. Most of the time, I slept, my vivid dreams full of people, places, and things from the past. During the few occasions I was awake, Luke sat with me, never leaving my side. After three days of this maddeningly silent attendance, I could no longer hold back my suspicions.

"Luke, you need to tell me what's happened to the Rebellion during my absence," I stated matter-of-factly, firmly crossing my arms in an effort to show Luke my dogged determination.

Confronted with my accusation, Luke's blue eyes widened in surprise, though he was careful not to let the rest of his face show how off-guard he was. Why my best friend should even be bothered to react with shock was beyond my immediate powers of comprehension. The damn boy was an open book for all to read the emotions boiling just beneath the surface. A moment later, Luke sighed heavily as if in defeat. Slowly, I let my guard down enough to uncross my arms and allow my tense body to to relax, sufficiently satisfied I would get my way in regards to the flow of this conversation.

"You and my aunts have way too quiet about my decision to rejoin the Rebellion. It's as if you're putting off an inevitable argument about something I'm not going to like."

"No, you won't," Luke asserted bluntly, averting his eyes from mine.

"Has anyone...died?" I asked hesitantly. An oppressive cloak of fear wrapped itself around me and commenced its stranglehold on me. How easy it was for death to come up as the first possibility in my mind with the demise of my stillborn baby hanging heavily in the room.

"Of course people have died, Carithlee. That's the nature of things where war is concerned. However, the recent casualties are a bit heavier than usual due to one specific reason: the Empire has set up a blockade around Yavin 4."

"My God..." I whispered, thereafter stunned into a brief silence. Abruptly, I fastened my eyes on Luke with a sharp expression. My best friend was intensely studying the languid pace of life being acted out in Theed. "How can you be here if there's a blockade going on?"

A smile ripe with perversion tugged at the corners of Luke's mouth. "Small one-man ships can sneak past the blockade if luck is on the side of the of the pilots," he answered grimly. "Obviously, I was one of the luckier pilots, and because of my great luck, my escape must serve the Rebel leaders on Yavin well. They need someone to scout the galaxy in order to find a suitable location for a new base...before it's too late."

I swallowed hard, at last understanding why Luke had been reluctant to talk to me about Rebellion developments. Guilt wracked my body as I thought of all the desperate Rebels on Yavin 4 depending on Luke. More and more were dying in vain even as Luke had been diverted from his important mission to tend to my petty concerns.

"You shouldn't be here, Luke. You should be making the Rebel mission your first priority," I admonished my best friend in a voice full of deep shame. We truly didn't deserve this time together. It was...stolen.

Luke closed the small distance between us, his eyes burning with that same fire of remorse that raged within me. "Carithlee, my mind also mightily wrestled with the truth you just spoke of. However, I knew I would never be able to refuse to answer your call for help. You're my best friend, one of the few people left in this galaxy that makes sense of all the crazy stuff happening in my life."

By now, hot, angry tears leaked out at the edges of his eyes. My own eyes misted up in response to Luke's heartbreaking confession. The landscape of our shared experiences spread before me in my mind and overwhelmed me with its sheer vastness. Instinctively, I let my arms wrap themselves around Luke's midsection. His body didn't react right away, but within a couple of seconds, he accepted my hug by leaning into it like melted butter. We were locked in this embrace for only a minute or so before I abruptly pulled away and blinked back my tears, embarrassed by my forward behavior toward Luke. This conversation had become way too emotional for my taste.

"What is it?" Luke inquired, his brow wrinkled in confusion. He still looked so young and innocent even after being a part of the Rebellion for the past three months. His strong, lingering attachment to me especially drove home this point. Nevertheless, his journey toward morphing into a seasoned soldier was inevitable and had already begun, as evidenced by his cynical reaction to the Empire's ruthless blockade of Yavin. The same painful process would no doubt occur to me once I rejoined the Rebels.

"Nothing's wrong," I lied, dismissing Luke's concern with a wave of the hand. There was no use mentally bitching about the consequences of something I had already agreed to undertake. "Let's just leave the mushiness behind and get down to business. What have you found out so far about a new location for the Yavin 4 base? I need to help you finish this mission, and fast."

Luke's face scrunched up in a thoughtful frown. "Actually, I think I already know of a place, although I didn't purposefully discover it. I crash landed there because of an emergency."

"What's the name of the planet?" I questioned, intrigued by this new development.

"Hoth."

& & &

My best friend's harrowing adventure on Hoth commenced rather suddenly, as could be expected for such a situation. At first, Luke's daring escape through the Imperial blockade of Yavin 4 progressed nicely, yet his ship eventually ended up plunged into the vapor-trail of a transdimensional cometary body. Caught in the hyperstream of the comet, Luke was then dragged to the Hoth system, a remote area just on the cusp of the Outer Rim Territories, and crash landed on Hoth with 3P0.

Hoth, the sixth planet of the Hoth system, consisted of a molten metallic core with dichotomous crust. Beyond Hoth was a large asteroid belt, known as the Hoth Asteroid Field, from which small asteroids regularly broke off, crashing onto Hoth's surface as meteorites. Hoth's surface itself was entirely covered by a frozen ocean, except where volcanic fissures opened up steam vents, depositing rock and minerals in darker patches on the glacier planes. A few mountain ranges pierced the permanent ice shelves, some being geologically active. The tidal pull of Hoth's three nameless oceans caused fissures in the ice-layers, sending jets of ocean water into the freezing Hoth air. The intense cold froze these jets into spires of ice, suspending primitive ocean algae within these tall columns and glaciers. Massive oceanic currents beneath the southern hemisphere caused regular seismic activity, resulting in a constantly shifting landscape of caves and tunnels. Buried deep in Hoth's equatorial region was a fissure, reaching hundreds of meters towards the core of the planet. In this area never exposed to Hoth's blue-white sun was a cache of lumni-spice, a rare fungal growth.

The orbit and axial tilt resulted in consistently icy weather patterns. Daytime temperatures reached levels unbearable to most species and rarely rose above freezing, even in the planet's relatively mild equatorial regions. The gale force winds and intense snowstorms that regularly wracked the windswept surface magnified the extreme cold of Hoth. Thus, the frigid biosphere included a minimal food chain: the predator wampas, the omnivorous tauntauns, the herbivorous Hoth hogs, a few rodent species, including snowmice and ice scrabblers, and iceworms, lichens, and Dragon Slugs. Slammed with these double challenges of scarcity of food and severe weather, Luke very narrowly managed to survive one Hoth blizzard.

Luckily, a young woman named Frija Torlock soon saved Luke from certain death before the next Hoth blizzard could arrive. Further, Lexhannen Torlock, Frija's father and an Imperial governor, gave my best friend Skywalker sanctuary. Shortly, though, Luke learned that the two were in actuality human replica droids of the real Torlocks, hiding from the Empire on Hoth. Fearful of organic beings, Lexhannen eventually intended to kill Luke. However, in the murder attempt, Lexhannen accidentally shot and destroyed his daughter. He was then cut down by Luke's lightsaber. After sending an emergency transmission, Luke and 3PO managed to escape the planet when Han Solo and Chewbacca rescued the pair with the _Millennium Falcon_.

Despite his terrifying experience on Hoth, Luke quickly realized the planet's remote location, protective asteroid belt, and low likelihood of Imperial presence made it an ideal location for the new Alliance headquarters. In fact, my best friend and his comrades were on their way now to recommend Hoth as a possible relation site to the Alliance High Command, the military nerve center of the Rebel Alliance. The High Command's approval was crucial since its duties included setting over-all strategy for the Alliance, direction operations of the Alliance Fleet and Allied Forces, command of all Alliance ground forces, and coordinating the Alliance Sector Commands.

Besides Hoth, another subject Luke broached was a new flight group he was tasked to help form by one veteran pilot named Commander Narra, leader of the legendary Renegade Flight starfighter unit. It was assigned to protect the Alliance High Command Headquarters. In fact, Renegade Flight was one of the oldest fighter groups in the Alliance with a service history dating back before the Battle of Yavin. Military lore even had it that one of Renegade Flight's fighters dated back to the original X-wing prototypes.

After the Battle of Yavin, Narra reformed Red Squadron, which would operate as two flight groups: the first, Renegade Flight, would continue to operate under Narra; the second would be the new Rogue Flight. Narra placed Skywalker in charge of this new unit. Rogue Flight was built around him and the only other survivor of Rogue Squadron, Wedge Antilles, with hopefully additional pilots to come in the future, including myself if I would consent to join.

"Of course I will, Luke," I agreed wholeheartedly to his subtle yet obvious proposal. "It's time once again to repay my debt to the Rebellion after they offered me shelter on Naboo."

Han and Chewbacca hadn't yet shown up in my presence because of their reluctance to get themselves tangled up in a situation far too delicate for their tastes. 3P0 could really do nothing for me, and besides, its visit would have been annoying as hell anyway. However, as soon as I abandoned my sick bed after an extra two more days of rest on top of the original three, Han and his Wookiee companion were suddenly up for a slight appearance, namely to fetch me in order to lead me to the _Falcon _for our return trip to Yavin 4.

"Feeling better, Carithlee?" Han greeted me airily, appearing in the doorway to my room with Chewbacca towering behind him. No "hello," or some other polite greeting, just a plunge into the depths of the familiarity pool. Thank the gods Han would spare me the painful process of recounting the details of my ordeal and head straight to the present.

"Sure, I am, and all ready to kick ass again," I threw back with the same amount of flippancy Han'd just shown me. Picking up my travel bag, I caught a glimpse of Han's wry grin and heard Chewbacca's throaty guffaw.

"Good for you," Solo praised me with an even wider smile. "The galaxy needs more like you.

"You know me. I'm a survivor," I pointed out as I followed my guides to their ship, R4 in tow.

& & &

Miraculously, the _Falcon_ did break through the Imperial blockade at Yavin 4. Actually, I wasn't surprised at the success of Han's piloting prowess. The crazy bastard could do pretty much do anything he set his demented mind to. To this day, I still can't decide if his peculiar brand of getting things done should be held as desirable.

Leia, Dashe, Mari, and R2 waited impatiently for our arrival, although the long awaited welcome was overshadowed by our greater purpose: to evacuate Yavin 4 for Hoth. Then, we did not know it would take many more lives and almost 3 years to accomplish our seemingly impossible yet necessary task.


End file.
